filled a bumper, and bolted it off--then another--then another. I
was getting on admirably, and rapidly recovering my equanimity, when
chancing to turn my eyes towards Mr. Hookey, he was nowhere to be seen. He
had not gone out; that was impossible; no--he was concealed from me by the
mighty nose.

"This event had nearly capsized me, and brought me back into my old way,
when I poured out another glass of wine, and hastily swallowed it, which
in some measure restored the equilibrium of my faculties. I looked again
at Hookey, and saw him distinctly--the shade was gone, for Miss Snooks had
leaned back, in a languishing mood, upon her chair, and taken her nose
along with her. At this moment I fancied I saw her ogling me with both
eyes, and resolved to be upon my guard. I remembered the solemn vows
already made to my dear Cecilia; and on this account determined to stand
out against Miss Snooks and her nose.

"But this was only a temporary relief. Again did she lean forward, and
again was the nose protruded between Hookey and myself. It acted as an
eclipse--it annihilated him--made him a mere nonentity--rendered him
despicable in my eyes. It was impossible to respect any man who lived in
the shade of a nose, who hid his light under such a bushel. Hang the
ninny, he must be a sneaking fellow!

"The wine now began to circulate more freely round the table, and the
tongues of the company to get looser in their heads. Miss Snooks also
commenced talking at a greater stretch than she had hitherto done. I soon
found out that she was a poetess, and had written a couple of novels,
besides two or three tragedies. In fact, her whole conversation was about
books and authors, and she did us the favour of reciting some of her own
compositions. She was also prodigiously sentimental, talked much about
love, and was fond of romantic scenery. I know not how it was, but
although her conversation was far from indifferent, it excited ridiculous
emotions in my mind, rather than any thing else. If she talked of
mountains, I could think of nothing but the hump upon her nose, which was,
in my estimation, a nobler mountain than Helvellyn or Cairngorm. If she
got among promontories, this majestic feature struck me as being sublimer
than any I had ever heard of--not excepting the Cape of Good Hope, first
doubled by Vasco de Gama.--When she conversed about the blue loch and the
cerulean sky, I saw in the tip of her nose a complexion as blue or
cerulean a