Pale Is Amelia'S Face, And Red Lavinia'S Nose Is; The Sisters Ever Jar: 'Tis Like The Civil War Between The Rival Roses. * * * * * On That Dark Theme, Man'S Genealogy, How Strangely People'S Notions Disagree! Sir Snub-Nose, Growling, Swears That He Can Trace Strong Kindred Likeness To The Monkey-Race: My Lady Graceful Smiles, Well-Pleased, To Find Far More Resemblance To The Angelic-Kind: Sure The Reflection From Their Looking-Glasses Into Their Minds, To Prompt Opinion Passes. Would-Be Philosophers Have Tried To Scan The Pedigree Of That Odd Creature, Man. 'We Are Of Monkey-Race!' Sir Snub-Nose Cries. Your Strange Assertion Strikes Me With Surprise; (I, For My Part, The Compliment Decline) But Do You, Sir, Sincerely Thus Opine? 'I Do Indeed: Nay More, I'm Sure 'Tis True!' Is'T Possible? Yet, When I Look On You, I, Verily, Begin To Think So Too. * * * * * 'Oh! Doctor! I've Had Such A Headache So Bad! I Was Fearful I Should Have Gone Out Of My Senses.' "I Should Not Have Wonder'D, Dear Ma'am, If You Had, You'd Not Have To Go Far To Leap Over Those Fences."
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