She was nearly six feet high, her nose was large, her chin small and sliding, and she wore glasses.

Across her left arm she nursed a large, shabby umbrella, and her habitual expression was that of one who has discovered a smell of drains.
This big woman was very curious.

She peered into every hole and corner, she examined Bonypart, the Living Skeleton, very closely through her glasses, looking critically at his features, and was equally curious with the monkeys.

She even inspected Professor Thunder with such minuteness, and with such an air of one who has at last detected a shameful imposition, that at length the celebrated showman exclaimed with some grandeur: "Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm not an exhibit." "Oh," gasped the female, "I beg your pardon.

My name is Martha Spink; I live at 'The Nook.' Do you happen to know a--eh--theatrical person named Nicholas--Crips Nicholas ?" Professor Thunder had learned caution.