“In a few minutes the servant girl made her appearance, to announce that supper was ready; and laying hold of the landlord’s arm, I went along with him down stairs; his two friends, linked together in the same manner, following close at our heels.  On entering the dining-room, there was certainly a very neat repast spread out.  I cannot at this moment condescend upon all the viands, but I recollect distinctly of boiled lobsters, devilled fowls, and fried codlings, staring us in the face.  There was, however, an individual in the room, and in the act of seating herself at the head of the table, who struck my fancy more forcibly than even the dishes upon the table.  This, as I afterwards learned, was Miss Snooks, our entertainer’s cousin.  I was not exactly prepared to encounter the apparition of a female at our banquet.  The landlord was a confirmed bachelor; and I expected to see nothing but myself, and three other lords of the creation, for the evening.  To tell the truth, (which at the risk of my gallantry must be done,) I was a little disappointed, for I had come thither expecting to enjoy some private talk with the male part of the company, and overhaul some bits of scandal not exactly fitted for a lady’s ear.  However, there was no help for it.  A lady was present, and we had just to make up our minds to put a bridle upon our tongues, so long as she pleased to honour us with her company.

“I had scarcely crossed the threshold of the room, than Miss Snooks curtsied to me, honoured me with a smile, and requested me to place myself alongside of her.  I did so, and had time to contemplate her physiognomy.  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 Caesar, 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.