Aquiline nose

What a shocking misfortune.

Why, I love this statue of Caesar with his delicately chiseled features, his fine Roman nose.

You better learn to love him without his nose.

It just rolled under the desk.

Now we'll just take this little hammer and commence.

[laughs]

Friends, Romans, countrymen, I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.

[hammer tapping]

Her father, Anatole, was a lawyer, a real estate investor, and a proud Creole, a descendant of the French settlers who had emigrated to Louisiana and who clung to their French identity at all costs despite their American birth, often refusing to speak English at all.

It was her father Amélie had to thank for the striking looks that would come to define her legacy: the copper hair, the pale skin, and above all, the long Roman nose.

Her mother, Marie Virginie Ternant, belonged to one of the largest and richest landowning families in the region.

As this was the nineteenth-century South, that means what you think it means.

So they rallied all their forces and hazarded their reputation upon the aggregated assault.

This charging column was composed of about one hundred and fifty dog soldiers and nearly five hundred more of the Brules, Cheyennes, and Arapahos, all under the command of the celebrated chief, Roman Nose.

Superbly mounted, almost naked, although in full war dress, and painted in the most hideous manner, formed with a front of about sixty men, they awaited in the greatest confidence the signal of their chief to charge.

Their leader at first signaled to the dismounted men beyond this line of horsemen to fire into the scouts and thus make his contemplated charge more effective.

At the moment of the fusillade, seeing the little garrison was stunned by the fire of the dismounted Indians, and rightly judging that now if ever was the proper time to charge, Roman Nose and his band of mounted warriors, with a wild ringing war whoop echoed by the women and children on the hills, started forward.

On they came, presenting even to the brave men awaiting their charge a most superb sight.

Soon they were within the range of the rifles of their friends, and of course the dismounted Indians had to slacken their fire for fear of hitting their own warriors.

Unchecked, undaunted, on dashed the warriors.