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drugs to pound, let him do it in the kitchen.—May it please your honour, cried Trim,—they are two mortar-pieces for a siege next summer, which I have been making out of a pair of jack-boots, which Obadiah told me your honour had left off wearing.—By heaven! cried my father, springing out of his chair, as he swore,—I have not one appointment belonging to me, which I set so much store by, as I do by these jack-boots,—they were our great-grandfather's, brother Toby,—they were hereditary. Then I fear, quoth my uncle Toby, Trim has cut off the entail.—I have only cut off the tops, an' please your honour, cried Trim.—I hate perpetuities as much as any man alive, cried my father,—but these jack-boots, continued he, (smiling, though very angry at the same time) have been in the family, brother,ever
