A Tale of a Tub by Jonathan Swift
page 126 of 157 (80%)
page 126 of 157 (80%)
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be sure to get far enough out of his way; and whenever curiosity
attracted strangers to laugh or to listen, he would of a sudden bespatter them with mud. In winter he went always loose and unbuttoned, and clad as thin as possible to let in the ambient heat, and in summer lapped himself close and thick to keep it out {147b}. In all revolutions of government, he would make his court for the office of hangman-general, and in the exercise of that dignity, wherein he was very dexterous, would make use of no other vizard than a long prayer. He had a tongue so musculous and subtile, that he could twist it up into his nose and deliver a strange kind of speech from thence. He was also the first in these kingdoms who began to improve the Spanish accomplishment of braying; and having large ears perpetually exposed and erected, he carried his art to such a perfection, that it was a point of great difficulty to distinguish either by the view or the sound between the original and the copy. He was troubled with a disease the reverse to that called the stinging of the tarantula, and would run dog-mad at the noise of music, especially a pair of bagpipes {148a}. But he would cure himself again by taking two or three turns in Westminster Hall, or Billingsgate, or in a boarding-school, or the Royal Exchange, or a state coffee-house. He was a person that feared no colours, but mortally hated all, and upon that account bore a cruel aversion to painters, insomuch that |
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