'Sir'—I replied—'it is the Science of Noses.'
'And can you tell me'—he asked—'what is the meaning of a nose?'
'A nose, my father'—said I—'has been variously defined, by about a thousand different authors. It is now noon, or thereabouts. We shall therefore have time enough to get through with them all by midnight. To commence:—The nose, according to Bartholinus, is that protuberance, that bump, that excrescence, that'——
'That will do Thomas'—said my father. 'I am positively thunderstruck at the extent of your information—I am, upon my soul. Come here! (and he took me by the arm.) Your education may be considered as finished, and it is high time you should scuffle for yourself—so—so—so (here he kicked me down stairs and out of the door,) so get out of my house, and God bless you!'
As I felt within me the divine afflatus, I considered this accident rather fortunate than otherwise, and determined to follow my nose. So I gave it a pull or two, and wrote a pamphlet on Nosology. All Fum-Fudge was in an uproar.
'Wonderful genius!'—said the Quarterly.
'Superb physiologist!'—said the New Monthly.
'Fine writer!'—said the Edinburg.
'Great man!'—said Blackwood.
'Who can he be?'—said Mrs. Bas-Bleu.