CHAPTER III

Did ever man, brother _Toby_, cried my father, raising himself upon his elbow, and turning himself round to the opposite side of the bed, where my uncle _Toby_ was sitting in his old fringed chair, with his chin resting upon his crutch----did ever a poor unfortunate man, brother _Toby_, cried my father, receive so many lashes? ----The most I ever saw given, quoth my uncle _Toby_ (ringing the bell at the bed’s head for _Trim_) was to a grenadier, I think in _Mackay’s_ regiment.

------Had my uncle _Toby_ shot a bullet through my father’s heart, he could not have fallen down with his nose upon the quilt more suddenly.

Bless me! said my uncle _Toby_.

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