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 Abdullah , finger in mouth , staring . ` Without doubt , ' returned Kim ; ` but he is no man of India that I have ever seen . ' ' A priest , perhaps , ' said Chota Lal , spying the rosary . ` See ! He goes into the Wonder House ! ' ` Nay , nay , ' said the policeman , shaking his head . ' I do not understand your talk . ' The constable spoke Punjabi . ' O Friend of all the World , what does he say ? ' ` Send him hither , ' said Kim , dropping from Zam-Zammah , flourishing his bare heels . ` He is a foreigner , and thou art a buffalo . ' The man turned helplessly and drifted towards the boys . He was old , and his woollen gaberdine still reeked of the stinking artemisia of the mountain passes . ' O Children , what is that big house ? ' he said in very fair Urdu . ` The Ajaib-Gher , the Wonder House ! '
XXXXX gave him no title -- such as Lala or Mian .
Ajaib-Gher Kim Punjabi Shing Urdu Zam-Zammah artemisia bootmaker onyx rosary