[19]
Noses; and have got me one of the goodliest and jolliest, thank heaven, that ever fell to a single man's lot.
Whilst the stranger was giving this odd account of himself, the master of the inn and his wife kept both their eyes fixed full upon the stranger's nose—By saint Radagunda, said the inn-keeper's wife to herself, there is more of it than in any dozen of the largest noses put together in all Strasburg! is it not, said she, whispering her husband in his ear, is it not a noble nose?
'Tis an imposture, my dear, said the master of the inn—'tis a false nose.—
'Tis a true nose, said his wife.—
'Tis made of fir-tree, said he,—I smell the turpentine.—
'Tis
