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Now, quoth the corporal, setting his left hand a kimbo, and giving such a flourish with his right, as just promised success—and no more—if your honour will give me leave to lay down the plan of this attack———
—Thou wilt please me by it, Trim, said my uncle Toby, exceedingly—and as I foresee thou must act in it as my aid de camp, here's a crown, corporal, to begin with, to steep thy commission.
Then, an' please your honour, said the corporal (making a bow first for his commission)—we will begin with getting your honour's laced cloaths out of the great campaign-trunk, to be well-air'd, and have the blue and gold taken up at the sleeves—and I'll put your white ramallie-wig
