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I was five years old.—Susannah did not consider that nothing was well hung in our family,—so slap came the sash down like lightening upon us;—Nothing is left,—cried Susannah,—nothing is left—for me, but to run my country.———
My uncle Toby's house was a much kinder sanctuary; and so Susannah fled to it.
CHAP. XVIII.
When Susannah told the corporal the misadventure of the sash, with all the circumstances which attended the murder of me,—(as she called it)—the blood forsook his cheeks;—all accessaries in murder, being principals,—Trim's conscience told him he was as much to blame as Susannah,—and if the doc-
