Imagine to yourſelf a little, ſquat, uncourtly figure of a Doctor Slop, of about four feet and a half perpendicular height, with a breadth of back, and a ſeſquipedality of belly, which might have done honour to a ſerjeant in the horſe-guards.

the simplifying afterlight of metaphor

to pipe flowers on to a cupcake

We shook hands—though I doubt if a mere fleshly contact can express much while the self behind it is dumb with instinctive distaste.