, but that there is a vast
deal of satisfaction in dining. More: there is a savor of life and
immortality in substantial fare. Like balloons, we are nothing till
filled.

And well knowing this, nature has provided this jolly round board,
our globe, which in an endless sequence of courses and crops, spreads
a perpetual feast. Though, as with most public banquets, there is no
small crowding, and many go away famished from plenty.

CHAPTER LVI
King Media A Host

Striking into a grove, about sunset we emerged upon a fine, clear
space, and spied a city in the woods.

In the middle of all, like a generalissimo's marquee among tents, was
a structure more imposing than the rest. Here, abode King Media.

Disposed round a space some fifty yards square, were many palm posts
staked firmly in the earth. A man's height from the ground, these
supported numerous horizontal trunks, upon which lay a flooring of
habiscus. High over this dais, but resting upon independent supports
beyond, a gable-ended roof sloped away to within a short distance of
the ground.

Such was the palace.

We entered it by an arched, arbored entrance, at one of its palmetto-
thatched ends. But not through this exclusive portal entered the
Islanders. Humbly stooping, they found ingress under the drooping
eaves. A custom immemorial, and well calculated to remind all
contumacious subjects of the dignity of the habitation thus entered.

Three steps led to the summit of the dais, where piles of soft mats,
and light pillows of woven grass, stuffed with the golden down of a
wild thistle, invited all loiterers to lounge.

How pleasant the twilight that welled up from under the low eaves,
above which we were seated. And how obvious now the design of the
roof. No shade more grateful and complete; the garish sun lingering
without like some lackey in waiting.

But who is this in the corner, gaping at us like a butler in a
quandary? Media's household deity, in the guise of a plethoric
monster, his enormous head lolling back, and wide, gaping mouth
stuffed full of fresh fruits and green leaves. Truly, had the idol
possessed a soul under his knotty ribs, how tantalizing to hold so
glorious a mouthful without the power of deglutition. Far worse than
the inexorable lock-jaw, which will not admit of the step preliminary
to a swallow.

This jolly Josh image was that of an inferior deity, the god of Good
Cheer, and often after, we met with his merry round mouth