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Updated: May 3, 2025
The more he considered it, the more bewitching the scene appeared to him; so that two full hours before daylight he had come to a final determination, and had concerted the whole plan of his and Corporal Trim's decampment. My Uncle Toby had a neat little country house of his own in the village where my father's estate lay at Shandy.
It was owing to the neglect of that very precaution, said my uncle Toby, laying his hand upon Trim's shoulder, that Count De la Motte lost the battle of Wynendale: he pressed too speedily into the wood; which if he had not done, Lisle had not fallen into our hands, nor Ghent and Bruges, which both followed her example; it was so late in the year, continued my uncle Toby, and so terrible a season came on, that if things had not fallen out as they did, our troops must have perish'd in the open field.
>This I recommend to painters; need I add, to orators! I think not; for unless they practise it, they must fall upon their noses. So much for Corporal Trim's body and legs.
My father stood it out as well as he could with these three auxiliaries to the end of Trim's story; and from thence to the end of my uncle Toby's panegyrick upon arms, in the chapter following it; when seeing, that instead of marching up to Mrs.
The next Sunday, Brandon was again on the wall with a prodigious plum-cake. A regular cut-and-come-again affair: it fell to the ground with a heaviness of sound that beat the falling of Corporal Trim's hat all to ribbons. To be sure, the corporal's fell as if there had been a quantity of "clay kneaded in the crown of it," whilst mine was kneaded with excellent dough.
My uncle Toby blushed as red as scarlet as Trim went on; but it was not a blush of guilt, of modesty, or of anger, it was a blush of joy; he was fired with Corporal Trim's project and description. Trim! said my uncle Toby, thou hast said enough.
Give this for a petticoat to Trim's wife!" he is interrupted by Trim himself entering the vestry with "the coat actually ript and cut out" ready for conversion into a petticoat for his wife.
But before I begin my demonstration, let me only tell you, that the chapter which I have torn out, and which otherwise you would all have been reading just now, instead of this was the description of my father's, my uncle Toby's, Trim's, and Obadiah's setting out and journeying to the visitation at.... We'll go in the coach, said my father Prithee, have the arms been altered, Obadiah?
The mourning ran not in Trim's head, whatever it did in Susannah's. I hope said Trim, explaining himself, I hope in God the news is not true. I heard the letter read with my own ears, answered Obadiah; and we shall have a terrible piece of work of it in stubbing the ox-moor. Oh! he's dead, said Susannah. As sure, said the scullion, as I'm alive.
When my father had danced his white bear backwards and forwards through half a dozen pages, he closed the book for good an' all, and in a kind of triumph redelivered it into Trim's hand, with a nod to lay it upon the 'scrutoire, where he found it.
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