onsdag den 8. februar 2017

Rhinoplasty



When Trim came in and told my father, that Dr. Slop was in the kitchen, and busy in making a bridge—my uncle Toby——the affair of the jack-boots having just then raised a train of military ideas in his brain——took it instantly for granted that Dr. Slop was making a model of the marquis d’Hôpital’s bridge.——’Tis very obliging in him, quoth my uncle Toby;—pray give my humble service to Dr. SlopTrim, and tell him I thank him heartily.
Had my uncle Toby’s head been a Savoyard’s box, and my father peeping in all the time at one end of it——it could not have given him a more distinct conception of the operations of my uncle Toby’s imagination, than what he had; so, notwithstanding the catapulta and battering-ram, and his bitter imprecation about them, he was just beginning to triumph——
When Trim’s answer, in an instant, tore the laurel from his brows, and twisted it to pieces.

CHAPTER XXVII

——This unfortunate draw-bridge of yours, quoth my father——God bless your honour, cried Trim, ’tis a bridge for master’s 
nose.——In bringing him into the world with his vile instruments, he has crushed his nose, Susannah says, as flat as a pancake to his face, and he is making a false bridge with a piece of cotton and a thin piece of whalebone out of Susannah’s stays, to raise it up.
——Lead me, brother Toby, cried my father, to my room this instant.

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