The first thing which struck me was the immense size of her nose. It stood
forward _tremendously prominent_; and behind it--in the shade--was her
face. It did not glide gently away from the brow above, and from the
cheeks at each side. On the contrary, it jutted out like a promontory, and
seemed as bold and defined as Cape Wrath or the Ord of Caithness. It
appeared to have sprung out all at once from her face at the touch of some
magician's wand, in the same way as Minerva sprung from the head of
Jupiter. It had a hump on it, too, like a dromedary; for it was a Roman
nose--such as that sported in days of old by Julius Cæsar, and, in modern
times, by the Duke of Wellington--only much more magnificent in its
dimensions. I feel some difficulty in describing the rest of Miss Snooks,
so much was I taken up with this godlike feature. She was tall, thin,
wrinkled, fiery-eyed, with a blue silk gown on; and a cap, stiff-starched,
and overgrown with a mountain of frills, and indigo-coloured ribbons. Her
voice was shrill, almost squeaking; and--with reverence be it spoken--she
had a _leetle_ bit of a beard--only a few odd hairs growing from her chin
and upper lip. Her age, I suppose, might be about fifty.

"Now comes the peg 'whereon hangs a tale,' and where my feeling resembled
your own. I felt I was to be miserable for the night--at least so long as
Miss Snooks favoured us with her company; and that she would favour us
with it long enough was evident--for I had a presentiment that she was a
_blue-stocking_, and _they_ always sit late. Her gown was blue, so were
her ribbons, so were her little twinkling eyes, and so was her nose--at
least at the point. But there was no help for it. I made up my mind to the
worst, and allowed her to help me to a bit of fowl. The landlord, and the
two other guests supped on fried codlings. She herself fastened upon a
lobster's claw.

"Meanwhile supper proceeded, and the clatter of knives and forks bore