That’s what makes a blow from the hand, Flask, fifty times more savage to bear than a blow from a cane. The living member — that makes the living insult, my little man. And thinks I to myself all the while, mind, while I was stubbing my silly toes against that cursed pyramid — so confoundedly contradictory was it all, all the while, I say, I was thinking to myself, ‘what’s his leg now, but a cane — a whalebone cane. Yes,’ thinks I, ‘it was only a playful cudgelling — in fact, only a whaleboning that he gave me — not a base kick.

Besides,’ thinks I, ‘look at it once; why, the end of it — the foot part — what a small sort of end it is; whereas, if a broad footed farmer kicked me, there’s a devilish broad insult. But this insult is