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epithet—Was he unfortunate then, Trim? said my uncle Toby, pathetically—The corporal, wishing first the word and all its synonimas at the devil, forthwith began to run back in his mind, the principal events in the King of Bohemia's story; from every one of which, it appearing that he was the most fortunate man that ever existed in the world———it put the corporal to a stand: for not caring to retract his epithet———and less, to explain it—and least of all, to twist his tale (like men of lore) to serve a system—he looked up in my uncle Toby's face for assistance———but seeing it was the very thing, my uncle Toby sat in expectation of himself———after a hum and a haw, he went on———
The
