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unlucky accident—O yes, Trim! said my uncle Toby, and it gives me great concern—I am heartily concerned too, but I hope your honour, replied Trim, will do me the justice to believe, that it was not in the least owing to me—To thee—Trim!—cried my uncle Toby, looking kindly in his face—'twas Susannah's and the curate's folly betwixt them—What business could they have together, an' please your honour, in the garden?—In the gallery, thou meanest, replied my uncle Toby.
Trim found he was upon a wrong scent, and stopped short with a low bow—Two misfortunes, quoth the corporal to himself, are twice as many at least as are needful to be talked over at one time,—the mischief the cow has done in breaking into the fortifications, may betold
