Jobbernowl

[She...] bathed his jobbernowl thrice in the fountain; then threw a handful of meal on his phiz …

His toggery was that of a member of the prize ring – what we now call a “belcher” bound his throat – a spotted fogle bandaged his jobbernowl, and shaded his right peeper, while a white beaver crowned the occiput of the Magus.

He stood on the backs of his brace of hacks, in equitation foul; / And either donkey wore what seemed a human jobbernowl.

Trenholme groaned softly in the background, eliciting a sharp command from his brother to “shut his jobbernowl.”

“And a noodle and a jolt-head; you’re a jobbernowl and a doodle, a maundering mooncalf and a block-headed numps, a gaby and a loon; you’re a Hatter!” I shrieked the last epithet.

That he pays not the least regard to the requirements of convention marks him out as either a superior soul or a rightdown jobbernowl.

STELLA: [...] You’re a – a jobbernowl! / JOHN (arrested): A what? / STELLA (reluctantly): Jobbernowl.

When I discovered I could grow it here — I like to say any jobbernowl can — I was as pleased as a dog with two tails.