—“They are foolish things;” said my mother.
⸺Particularly the cuvetts ; replied my father.
’Tis enough—he tasted the sweet of triumph—and went on.
—Not that they are, properly speaking, Mrs. Wadman’s premises, said my father, partly correcting himself—because she is but tenant for life⸺
⸺That makes a great difference—said my mother⸺
—In a fool’s head, replied my father⸺
Unless she should happen to have a child—said my mother—
⸺But she must persuade my brother Toby first to get her one—
⸺To be sure, Mr. Shandy , quoth my mother.
⸺Though if it comes to persuasion—said my father—Lord have mercy upon them.
Amen: said my mother, piano .
Amen: cried my father, fortissimè .
Amen: said my mother again⸺but with such a sighing cadence of personal pity at the end of it, as discomfited every fibre about my father—he instantly took out his almanac; but before he could untie it, Yorick’s congregation coming out of church, became a full answer to one half of his business with it—and my mother telling him it was a sacrament day—left him as little in doubt, as to the other part—He put his almanac into his pocket.
The first Lord of the Treasury thinking of ways and means , could not have returned home with a more embarrassed look.