I once heard the story of an anatomist who was invited to dine at High Table at an Oxbridge college. Prior to dinner, he was being shown around and was asked if he would be willing, as an honoured guest, to say Grace before dinner. He immediately agreed. He was then informed that Grace was always in Latin and asked, ‘You do have Latin, don’t you?’ Too shamefaced to admit that he knew no Latin, he responded, ‘Of course.’ Then came the dilemma of how to say Grace in Latin without knowing a word of the language. But of course he did; he suddenly realised. He was an anatomist. Much of the body was named using Latin terminology. So he thought of the longest Latin descriptor he could think of. That was a small muscle beside the nose—the levator labii superioris alaeque nasi. So when the time came, he intoned the muscle’s name, added ‘Amen’ at the end, and he got away with it.
FYI—Levator labii superioris alaeque nasi means 'raiser of the upper lip and wing of the nose.' But you knew that, didn't you?
See also: An Anatomical Wordbook (pp14-21).
Addendum
Since writing and scheduling the publication of this post, I have come across the following in chapter 6 of Richard Gordon's 1957 novel 'Doctor in Love'. A much older doctor explains to the Gordon...
"Of course, since my day they've got an anglicized the whole anatomical nomenclature," he went on. "Which is a pity because it gives the medical profession at least the appearance of being educated like gentlemen if they can mouth a few Latin words occasionally. I remember the time I found myself asked to say grace at some luncheon or other. I bowed my head and intoned: 'Levator labii superioris alaeque nasi, Amen.' A small muscle in the front of the face, you will recall. No one was any the wiser."
