Chapter 89

My uncle Toby and the corporal had gone on separately with their operations the greatest part of the campaign, and as effectually cut off from all communication of what either the one or the other had been doing, as if they had been separated from each other by the Maes or the Sambre.

My uncle Toby, on his side, had presented himself every afternoon in his red and silver, and blue and gold alternately, and sustained an infinity of attacks in them, without knowing them to be attacks—and so had nothing to communicate—

The corporal, on his side, in taking Bridget, by it had gain’d considerable advantages—and consequently had much to communicate—but what were the advantages—as well as what was the manner by which he had seiz’d them, required so nice an historian, that the corporal durst not venture upon it; and as sensible as he was of glory, would rather have been contented to have gone bareheaded and without laurels for ever, than torture his master’s modesty for a single moment—

—Best of honest and gallant servants!—But I have apostrophiz’d thee, Trim! once before—and could I apotheosize thee also (that is to say) with good company—I would do it without ceremony in the very next page.