[45]
CHAP. VI.
—What can they be doing, brother? said my father.—I think, replied my uncle Toby,—taking, as I told you, his pipe from his mouth, and striking the ashes out of it as he began his sentence;—I think, replied he,—it would not be amiss, brother, if we rung the bell.
Pray, what's all that racket over our heads, Obadiah?—quoth my father;—my brother and I can scarce hear ourselves speak.
Sir, answered Obadiah, making a bow towards his left-shoulder,—my Mistress is taken very badly;—And where's Susannah running down the garden there,as
