ed head pains him no more; he would not feel it, did a
javelin pierce him. Yea; Karhownoo is exempt from all the ills and
evils of this miserable Mardi!"

Hereupon, the Twice-Blind, who being deaf, heard not what was said,
tore his gray hair, and cried, "Alas! alas! my boy; thou wert the
merriest man in Mardi, and now thy pranks are over!"

But the other proceeded--"Mourn not, I say, oh friends of Karhownoo;
the dead whom ye deplore is happier than the living; is not his
spirit in the aerial isles?"

"True! true!" responded the raving wife, mingling her blood with her
tears, "my own poor hapless Karhownoo is thrice happy in
Paradise!" And anew she wailed, and lacerated her cheeks.

"Rave not, I say."

But she only raved the more.

And now the good stranger departed; saying, he must hie to a wedding,
waiting his presence in an arbor adjoining.

Understanding that the removal of the body would not take place till
midnight, we thought to behold the mode of marrying in Mondoldo.

Drawing near the place, we were greeted by merry voices, and much
singing, which greatly increased when the good stranger was
perceived.

Gayly arrayed in fine robes, with plumes on their heads, the bride
and groom stood in the middle of a joyous throng, in readiness for
the nuptial bond to be tied.

Standing before them, the stranger was given a cord, so bedecked with
flowers, as to disguise its stout fibers; and taking: the bride's
hands, he bound them together to a ritual chant; about her neck, in
festoons, disposing the flowery ends of the cord. Then turning to the
groom, he was given another, also beflowered; but attached thereto
was a great stone, very much carved, and stained; indeed, so every
way disguised, that a person not knowing what it was, and lifting it,
would be greatly amazed at its weight. This cord being attached to
the waist of the groom, he leaned over toward the bride, by reason of
the burden of the drop.

All present now united in a chant, and danced about the happy pair,
who meanwhile looked ill at ease; the one being so bound by the
hands, and the other solely weighed down by his stone.

A pause ensuing, the good stranger, turning them back to back, thus
spoke:--

"By thy flowery gyves, oh bride, I make thee a wife; and by thy
burdensome stone, oh groom, I make thee a husband. Live and be happy,
both; for the wise and good Oro hath placed us in Mardi to be glad.
Doth not all nature rejoice in her green gro