must on no account leave, as the second part was to follow immediately.
We therefore remained not altogether unwillingly, for we were curious to
know what the next service was like. It proved to be almost exactly the
same as the first, and we could not distinguish much difference between
the two sermons; but we listened attentively, and were convinced that
the preacher was a thoroughly conscientious man in spite of his
occasional long sniffs of snuff, which were continued as before, but
what astonished us was that the old gentleman never once sneezed! It
was the most remarkable service we had ever attended, and it concluded
exactly at three o'clock, having lasted three hours.

We had then to retrace our four-mile walk to "Huna Inn," but the miles
seemed rather longer, as Mrs. Mackenzie could only walk in a leisurely
manner and we were feeling very hungry. We whiled away the time by
talking about the sermons and the snuff, but chiefly about the deacons
and their wonderful noses, and why they were all alike and so strangely
crooked. Mr. Mackenzie suggested that they were crooked because if they
had grown straight they would have projected over their mouths and
prevented them from eating, the crook in them being a provision of
nature to avoid this; or, they might have descended from the Romans or
some other ancient race who had formerly inhabited the coast of that
part of Scotland. Books had been written and sermons preached about
noses, and the longer the nose the greater the intellect of the owner
was supposed to be. We told our host that there was only one-sixteenth
part of an inch between the length of Napoleon's nose and that of
Wellington's. We had forgotten which was the longer, but as Wellington's
was so conspicuous that he was nicknamed "Nosey" by his troops, and as
he had won the great battle of Waterloo, we concluded that it was his,
and gave him the benefit of the doubt. We quoted the following lines: