You know that
live-broiled look?
As for our other features, they are more or less rudimentary. Of
a nose there is only what a chemist would call a trace. It seems
hard to imagine that a dinky little nubbin like that, a dimple
turned inside out, as it were, will ever develop into a regular
nose, with a capacity for freckling in the summer and catching cold
in the winter--a nose that you can sneeze through and blow with.
There are no eyebrows to speak of either, and the skull runs up to
a sharp point like a pineapple cheese. Just back of the peak is a
kind of soft, dented-in place like a Parker House roll, and if you
touch it we die. In some cases this spot remains soft throughout
life, and these persons grow up and go through railroad trains in
presidential years taking straw votes.
And, as I said before, there isn't any hair; only on the slopes of
the cheese are some very pale, faint, downy lines, which look as
though they had been sketched on lightly with a very soft drawing
pencil and would wipe off readily. That, however is the inception
and beginning of what afterward becomes, among our race, hair.
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