CHAPTER XXVII

The world is ashamed of being virtuous ----My uncle _Toby_ knew little of the world; and therefore when he felt he was in love with widow _Wadman_, he had no conception that the thing was any more to be made a mystery of, than if Mrs. _Wadman_ had given him a cut with a gap’d knife across his finger: Had it been otherwise----yet as he ever look’d upon _Trim_ as a humble friend; and saw fresh reasons every day of his life, to treat him as such----it would have made no variation in the manner in which he informed him of the affair.

“I am in love, corporal!” quoth my uncle _Toby_.

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