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Everyone farts, admit it or not. Kings fart, queens fart. Edward Lear, the 19th-century English landscape painter, wrote affectionately of a favorite duchess who gave enormous dinner parties attended by the cream of society.
One night she let out a ripper and, quick as a flash, she turned her gaze to her stoic butler, standing as always behind her.
"Hawkins!" she cried, "Stop that!"
"Certainly, your Grace," he replied with unhurried dignity. "Which way did it go?"