Miss “Elizabeth" Billa Jab
Off the white sanded shores of East Antiguia lies Pantomimville, an island of around two hundred and fifty acres. This island is both a town and a city. It is a state, a country and a continent too. In short, it is independent and is whatever its citizens want to believe. Even so, most of its inhabitants choose to just call it Pantomimville, which in itself is a very suitable name.
Unlike the rest of Antiguia, Pantomimville’s residents are very varied. Surrounded by glittering deep-blue waters and set under a blazing red-white sun, the island attracted numerous settlers when it was first discovered. Due to Antiguia’s liberal and fair government, all varieties of people soon occupied the land. There are the very rich, and the very poor. There are the very kind, and the very cruel. There are the very dark, and the very light. There are the very happy, and the very sad. The land itself is varied as well. Though so small, there are deserts, rainforests, lakes, mountains, valleys, plains, plateaus, rivers and hills. Such is the condition of Pantomimville so that no generalization can ever describe it.
Since I can not account to you everything, I will concentrate on one small valley. This is a valley of lush green vegetation and clear blue waters. Even the air is purer here than anywhere else. Small shrubs of berries and spices line every road. Fields of rice and rows of orange trees occupy patches of land here and there. Compared to the rest of the planet, it is an “undeveloped” place. The highest structure one can find is a three-story brick mansion. Most are only little houses with two floors.
Near the center of the valley, where many houses clutter close together, is a little brick building with fancy Greek Corinthian columns. On the painted pale blue porch is a creaking white rocking chair. Worn-out cotton shawls of all colors cover the seat. One would have thought that such an old chair would be all chipped by now. Far from so, not a single speck of paint came off. This is because the owner of this piece of antiquity is extremely fond of it, or rather of the attention she gets from the chair. She is so “attached” to it that to ensure its preservation, she orders her maid to carry her “fine chair of a fashion” out every morning, and in every night or whenever bad weather threatens. Thus, after such careful instructions, the chair, never in its long life, ever felt a trace of menace. The closest to danger of it being ruined is by having someone sit on it.
Dear readers, please do not mistaken my description of the owner. Although she took such pains with the chair, she cares not a bit about it. For her, it is just an article that decorates her home. Since her income would not allow her to be too liberal with her spending, she was rather proud when she found this “piece of elegance neglected by the tasteless world.”
Who is this lady you ask? Well, she is Billa Jab, the only daughter of a well-to-do smith. Descended from a line of Bills and Billas, Miss Jab decided to change her name. By making everyone call her Elizabeth, it finally settled into most people’s minds by the time she was forty-five. If you ask her why did she want to change her name to Elizabeth, she will sit straighter in her chair and say in an imperial voice, “Why did I change my name? What a silly question! Yet I suppose some people do 'ave more taste than others. Lack of refinement is certainly a very sad fault to 'ave. Nevertheless, I will take pains to tell you what should be common sense. Billa, although a very agreeable name, is by no means elegant. Elizabeth on the other 'and, is a queenly name.” Then, lifting up her chin and continuing in a higher pitch, “I, 'aving read many a books in my time, truly feel sorry for all the poor, ignorant, wretched, creatures who do not have enough sense to better themselves, by altering silly and common names, such as Billies or Kitties, to more courtly ones, such as Williams or Catherines.” Then, taking a breath and staring at you for your “silly” question, she would eventually relax and continue her one-sided conversation. You, who will probably be intimidated by her manner, will probably remain quiet while she delivers the rest of her lecture.
As you can probably see now, Miss “Elizabeth” Billa Jab is a very opinionated lady, who place great stress on beauty and elegance. Whether her taste is exquisite, I will leave you, the readers to decide, by giving you the following account of her dining parlor.
You should know by now that Miss Jab is not a very wealthy lady, or one of noble birth. Yet, her “taste” for finery often leads her on numerous ventures to old auctions where she buys any item that says something of elegance. Being quite shrewd, “Elizabeth” always picks pieces that have some slight damage, such as a chip on the bottom of a vase or a tear in the corner of some muslin. This way, she could drive what she considered a “sharp bargain” and still be respected. The dealers’ complaints of her keenness only fanned her pride.
Filled with such various items, the salon rather looks like a junk shop. There is a porcelain pot without a lid that looks like a vase. There is a pair of bronze stands holding round glass tabletops. There is even a life size statue of Venus in plaster, in one of the corners. As for the other furniture, none matched. A mahogany Duchesse with embroidered peach satin covers, is placed next to a chipped Windsor chair. Opposite them is a clumsy kas with ebony dark cornices and arched panels. Directly next to it, is a light pine occasional table that seemed to fly with grace, compared with its taller partner. An elegant fauteuil with light green satin covers and a heavily ornate window seat completed the “set” of the larger pieces of the room. Unable to find any suitable rugs or carpets, our dear Miss Jab has left the floor bare. Thus, where not covered with ornaments, pale purple walls and a wooden floor show themselves.
These are the items in Miss “Elizabeth’s” sitting room. Like Pantomimville, it does not produce any overall effect, other than a feeling of jumbles. Needless to say, the rest of the little house with the Greek Corinthian columns are decorated in the same way. Enough of Miss Jab’s tastes and preferences! It is time for us to proceed onto her physical features.
Saving the best for last, we are now about to discover what “Elizabeth” really looks like. By now, I am sure the reader must have formed some opinion as to Miss Jab’s image. Is she short or tall, thin or plump, dark or pale? Well, if you meet her for the first time, you will notice none of these things. What will immediately grab your attention will be her nose. Yes, her huge, straight and high bridged nose. It gives her a, what she called, “aristocratic” look. If the titles of royalty were given according to noses, she would be the empress of empresses.
Such a characteristic nose also make her true to her name, for she is extremely inquisitive. Yet, she does not join any gossip society, for she considers them below her rank. Unknown to most, every night she demand her maid (who is in the gossip circle) to update her on all the tidbits of the day. Thus, Miss Jab, who never asks a lot in public, seems to be aware of everything, and so stands in an even higher place among her peers.
After her nose, the next thing you will probably notice about “Elizabeth” is her high forehead and her pointy chin. “Another,” as she was fond of stressing, “two of the points that make me look aristocratic.” These features are less dominating than the first and soon give away to the calculating dark brown eyes. Although never mentioned by Miss Jab herself, she is rather conscious of her eyes since their lashes are not as long as she would like them to be.
Her mouth was thin and wide and merely told of her talking a lot. Other than that, it is not one of her strong features. Now, we come to her figure, which is rather plump, though considered by her to be “stately”. If contradicted, she would often make a point that the beauties in the ancient times were more portly than skinny.
Is Miss Jab tall? Yes, fortunately, for otherwise, her body would be out of proportion with her long face. Is she pale? Yes, because though brought up in a common household, her father was wealthy enough, to take care of his family without making his only daughter work. Mr. Jab even provided “Elizabeth” with a little education, which she used, to read popular novels. That, in case the readers don’t know, is where she first learned of the fashionable.
Thus completed the features of Miss Jab, with the exception of insignificant brown hair that turns gray, and wrinkles as she age.
Now that you, as readers have seen one of the inhabitants of Pantomimville, you must realize what interesting people reside in that town, city, state, country, and continent.
ã 1999 Lady of Scartha. All rights reserved.
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