Does not the following item, from a Maine paper, show how little real manhood depends upon the physique?
It is n't every day that I see a man take off his spectacles to give them a rub, and off with them comes his nose. Such a combination of spectacles and proboscis did I see, while taking an excursion in the elevator car of the Mutual Insurance building at Portland, Friday morning. The man told me, when he took off his specs, that I need n't be scared, so I was n't. When he was in the army, cold deprived him of a Roman nose of his own; but plaster of Paris is better than nothing. He has false teeth and false hair. One leg is a cork leg. He can see out of but one eye; the other is glass. Three fingers and one thumb are all he possesses. One ear is false. For all this, he is the liveliest man in Portland. He walks ten miles every day, rain or shine. He has had three wives; and he has refused five chances to marry again (so he says) since he buried his last wife, about a year ago.
