'Noodle!'—said the fifth.
'Ass!'—said the sixth.
'Be off!'—said the seventh.
At all this I felt mortified, and called upon my father.
'Father'—I said—'what is the chief end of my existence!'
'My son'—he replied—'it is still the study of Nosology. But in hitting the Baron's nose you have overshot your mark. You have a fine nose it is true, but then Bludenuff has none. You are d——d, and he has become the Lion of the day. In Fum-Fudge great is a Lion with a proboscis, but greater by far is a Lion with no proboscis at all.'
For the Southern Literary Messenger.