The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman Laurence Sterne (short novels to read .txt) 📖

I despaired, at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back your honour any kind of intelligence concerning the poor sick lieutenant⁠—Is he in the army, then? said my uncle Toby⁠⸺⁠He is, said the corporal⁠⸺⁠And in what regiment? said my uncle Toby⁠⸺⁠I’ll tell your honour, replied the corporal, everything straight forwards, as I learnt it.⁠—Then, Trim, I’ll fill another pipe, said my uncle Toby, and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at thy ease, Trim, in the window-seat, and begin thy story again. The corporal made his old bow, which generally spoke as plain as a bow could speak it⁠—Your honour is good:⁠⸺⁠And having done that, he sat down, as he was ordered,⁠—and began the story to my uncle Toby over again in pretty near the same words.

I despaired at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back any intelligence to your honour, about the lieutenant and his son; for when I asked where his servant was, from whom I made myself sure of knowing everything which was proper to be asked,⁠—That’s a right distinction, Trim, said my uncle Toby⁠—I was answered, an’ please your honour, that he had no servant with him;⁠⸺⁠that he had come to the inn with hired horses, which, upon finding himself unable to proceed (to join, I suppose, the regiment), he had dismissed the morning after he came.⁠—If I get better, my dear, said he, as he gave his purse to his son to pay the man,⁠—we can hire horses from hence.⁠⸺⁠But alas! the poor gentleman will never get from hence, said the landlady to me,⁠—for I heard the deathwatch all night long;⁠⸺⁠and when he dies, the youth, his son, will certainly die with him, for he is brokenhearted already.

I was hearing this account, continued the corporal, when the youth came into the kitchen, to order the thin toast the landlord spoke of;⁠⸺⁠but I will do it for my father myself, said the youth.⁠⸺⁠Pray let me save you the trouble, young gentleman, said I, taking up a fork for the purpose, and offering him my chair to sit down upon by the fire, whilst I did it.⁠⸺⁠I believe, Sir, said he, very modestly, I can please him best myself.⁠⸺⁠I am sure, said I, his honour will not like the toast the worse for being toasted by an old soldier.⁠⸺⁠The youth took hold of my hand, and instantly burst into tears.⁠⸺⁠Poor youth! said my uncle Toby,⁠—he has been bred up from an infant in the army, and the name of a soldier, Trim, sounded in his ears like the name of a friend;⁠—I wish I had him here.

⸺⁠I never, in the longest march, said the corporal, had so great a mind to my dinner, as I had to cry with him for company:⁠—What could be the matter with me, an’ please your honour? Nothing in the world, Trim, said my uncle Toby, blowing his nose,⁠—but that thou art a good-natured fellow.

When I gave him the toast, continued the corporal, I thought it was proper to tell him I was captain Shandy’s servant, and that your honour (though a stranger) was extremely concerned for his father;⁠—and that if there was anything in your house or cellar⁠⸺(And thou might’st have added my purse too, said my uncle Toby)⁠⸺⁠he was heartily welcome to it:⁠⸺⁠He made a very low bow (which was meant to your honour), but no answer⁠—for his heart was full⁠—so he went upstairs with the toast;⁠—I warrant you, my dear, said I, as I opened the kitchen-door, your father will be well again.⁠⸺⁠Mr. Yorick’s curate was smoaking a pipe by the kitchen fire,⁠—but said not a word good or bad to comfort the youth.⁠⸺⁠I thought it wrong; added the corporal⁠⸺⁠I think so too, said my uncle Toby.

When the lieutenant had taken his glass of sack and toast, he felt himself a little revived, and sent down into the kitchen, to let me know, that in about ten minutes he should be glad if I would step upstairs.⁠⸺⁠I believe, said the landlord, he is going to say his prayers,⁠⸺⁠for there was a book laid upon the chair by his bedside, and as I shut the door, I saw his son take up a cushion.⁠⸺⁠

I thought, said the curate, that you gentlemen of the army, Mr. Trim, never said your prayers at all.⁠⸺⁠I heard the poor gentleman say his prayers last night, said the landlady, very devoutly, and with my own ears, or I could not have believed it.⁠⸺⁠Are you sure of it? replied the curate.⁠⸺⁠A soldier, an’ please your reverence, said I, prays as often (of his own accord) as a parson;⁠⸺⁠and when he is fighting for his king, and for his own life, and for his honour too, he has the most reason to pray to God of anyone in the whole world⁠⸺’Twas well said of thee, Trim, said my uncle Toby.⁠⸺⁠But when a soldier, said I, an’ please your reverence, has been standing for twelve hours together in the trenches, up to his knees in cold water,⁠—or engaged, said I, for months together in long and dangerous marches;⁠—harassed, perhaps, in his rear today;⁠—harassing others tomorrow;⁠—detached here;⁠—countermanded there;⁠—resting this night out upon his arms;⁠—beat up in his shirt the next;⁠—benumbed in his joints;⁠—perhaps without straw in his tent to kneel on;⁠—must say his prayers how and when he can.⁠—I believe, said I,⁠—for I was piqued, quoth the corporal, for the reputation of the army,⁠—I believe, an’ please your reverence, said I, that when a soldier gets time to pray,⁠—he prays as heartily as a parson,⁠—though not with all his fuss and hypocrisy.⁠⸺⁠Thou shouldst not have said that, Trim, said my uncle Toby,⁠—for God only knows who is a hypocrite, and who is not:⁠⸺⁠At the great and general review of us all, corporal, at the day of judgment (and not till then)⁠—it will be seen who has done their duties in this world,⁠—and who has not; and we shall be advanced, Trim, accordingly.⁠⸺⁠I hope we shall, said Trim.⁠⸺⁠It is in the Scripture, said my uncle Toby; and I