The Museum was given up to Indian arts and manufactures , and anybody who sought wisdom could ask the Curator to explain . ` Off ! Off ! Let me up ! ' cried Abdullah , climbing up Zam-Zammah 's wheel . ` Thy father was a pastry-cook , Thy mother stole the ghi , ' sang Kim . ` All Mussalmans fell off Zam-Zammah long ago ! ' ` Let me up ! ' shrilled little Chota Lal in his gilt-embroidered cap . His father was worth perhaps half a million sterling , but India is the only democratic land in the world . ` The Hindus fell off Zam-Zammah too . The Mussalmans pushed them off . Thy father was a pastry-cook -- ' He stopped ; for there shuffled round the corner , from the roaring Motee Bazar , such a man as Kim , who thought he knew all castes , had never seen . He was nearly six feet high , dressed in fold upon fold of dingy stuff like horse-blanketing , and not one fold of it could Kim refer to any known trade or profession . At his belt hung a long open-work iron pencase and a wooden rosary such as holy men wear . On his head was a gigantic sort of tam-o ' - shanter . His face was yellow and wrinkled , like that of Fook Shing , the Chinese bootmaker in the bazar . His eyes turned up at the corners and looked like little slits of onyx . ` Who is that ? ' said Kim to his companions .
` Perhaps it is a man , ' said XXXXX , finger in mouth , staring .
Abdullah Indian Kim Lal Mussalmans bootmaker onyx rosary shanter tam-o