From the Minutes

  AN Orator¹ afflicted² with atrophy³ of the organ of common-sense rose
in his place in the halls of legislation and pointed⁴ with pride to
his Unblotted Escutcheon.  Seeing what it supposed to be the finger
of scorn pointed at it, the Unblotted Escutcheon turned black with
rage.  Seeing the Unblotted Escutcheon turning black with what he
supposed to be the record of his own misdeeds showing through the
whitewash⁵, the Orator fell dead of mortification⁶.  Seeing the
Orator fall dead of what they supposed to be atrophy of the organ
of common-sense, his colleagues resolved that whenever they should
adjourn⁷ because they were tired, it should be out of respect to the
memory of him who had so frequently made them so.