He had leggings of
buff cloth, furred at the bottom; and upon his feet were highlows.
Under his left arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip, with a
red lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his head was a hat with
a high peak, somewhat of the kind which the Spaniards call calane,
so much in favour with the bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now, when
I have added that Mr. Petulengro had on a very fine white holland
shirt, I think I have described his array. Mrs. Petulengro--I beg
pardon for not having spoken of her first--was also arrayed very
much in the Roman fashion. Her hair, which was exceedingly black
and lustrous, fell in braids on either side of her head. In her
ears were rings, with long drops of gold. Round her neck was a
string of what seemed very much like very large pearls, somewhat
tarnished, however, and apparently of considerable antiquity.
"Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; "here we are, come to
see you--wizard and witch, witch and wizard:-
"'There's a chovahanee, and a chovahano,
The nav se len is Petulengro.'"
"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you make me ashamed
of you with your vulgar ditties. We are come a visiting now, and
everything low should be left behind."
"True," said Mr. Petulengro; "why bring what's low to the dingle,
which is low enough already?"
"What, are you a catcher at words?" said I.
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