his arms and legs were frozen to icicles, he felt it not; the fatal symptom was upon him; he was doomed to die, not of cold, but of scarlet fever!

At length, he knew not how, more dead than alive, he reached the gate of the city. A band of ill-bred dogs, that were serenading at a corner of the street, seeing the notary dash by, joined in the hue and cry, and ran barking and yelping at his heels. It was now late at night, and only here and there a solitary lamp twinkled from an upper storey; but on went the notary, down this street and up that, till at last he reached his own door. There was a light in his wife's bedchamber. The good woman came to the window, alarmed at such a knocking, and clattering, and howling at her door so late at night; and the notary was too deeply absorbed in his own sorrows to observe that the lamp cast the shadows of two heads on the window curtains. "Let me in! Let me in! Quick! quick!" he cried, almost breathless from terror and fatigue. "Who are you that come to disturb a lone woman at this hour of the night?" cried a sharp voice from above. "Begone about your business, and let quiet people sleep."

"Oh! come down and let me in! I am your husband. Don't you know my voice? Quick, I beseech you, for I am dying here in the street."

After a few moments of delay, and a few more words of parley, the door was opened, and the notary stalked into his domicile, pale and haggard in aspect, and as stiff and straight as a ghost. Cased from head to heel in an armour of ice, as

the glare of the lamp fell upon him, he looked like a knight-errant mailed in steel. But in one place his armour was broken. On his right side was a circular spot as large as the crown of your hat, and about as black.

"My dear wife," he exclaimed, with more tenderness than he had exhibited for years, "reach me a chair. My hours are numbered: I am a dead man!"

Alarmed at these exclamations, his wife stripped off his overcoat. Something fell from beneath it, and was dashed to pieces on the hearth-it was the notary's pipe. He placed his hand upon his side, and lo! it was bare to the skin. Coat, waistcoat, and linen were burnt through and through, and there was a blister on his side as large over as your head. The mystery was soon explained, symptoms and all. The notary had put his pipe into his pocket without knocking out the ashes. And so my story ends.

"Is that all?" asked the radical, when the storyteller had finished.

"That is all."

"Well, what does your story prove?"

"That is more than I can tell. All I know is, that the story is true."

"And did he die ?" said the nice little man in gosling green.

"Yes, he died afterwards," replied the storyteller, rather annoyed at the question.

"And what did he die of?" continued gosling green, following him up. "What did he die of?" "Why, he died of a sudden !"

My uncle Toby was one evening sitting at supper, when the landlord of a little inn in the village came into the parlour with an empty phial in his hand, to beg a glass or two of sack. ""Tis for a poor gentleman, I think of the army," said the landlord, "who has been taken ill at my house four days ago, and has never held up his head since, or had a desire to taste anything till just now, that he has a fancy for a glass of sack and a thin toast; 'I think,' says he, taking his hand from his forehead, it would comfort me.' If I could neither beg, borrow, nor buy such a thing," added the landlord, "I would almost steal it for the poor gentleman, he is so ill. I hope in God he will still mend," continued he; "we are all of us concerned for him."

thee," cried my uncle Toby; "and thou shalt drink the poor gentleman's health in a glass of sack thyself; and take a couple of bottles with my service, and tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more, if they will do him good."

"Though I am persuaded," said my uncle Toby, as the landlord shut the door, "he is a very compassionate fellow, Trim, yet I cannot help entertaining a high opinion of his guest too; there must be something more than common in him that in so short a time he should win so much upon the affections of his host."

"And of his whole family," added the corporal; "for they are all concerned for him."

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A boy," replied the landlord, "of about eleven or twelve years of age; but the poor creature has tasted almost as little as his father; he does nothing but mourn and lament for him night and day. He has not stirred from the bedside these two days."

My uncle Toby laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate from before him, as the landlord gave him the account; and Trim, without being ordered, took it away, without saying one word, and in a few minutes after, brought him his pipe and tobacco.

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Stay in the room a little," said my uncle Toby. "Trim," said my uncle Toby, after he had lighted his pipe, and smoked about a dozen whiffs. Trim came in front of his master, and made his bow. My uncle Toby proceeded no farther, but finished his pipe.

"Trim," said my uncle Toby, "I have a project in my head, as it is a bad night, of wrapping my self up warm in my roquelaure, and paying a visit to this poor gentleman."

"Your honour's roquelaure," replied the corporal, "has not once been had on since the night before Your honour received your wound, when we mounted guard in the trenches before the gate of St. Nicholas. And besides, it is so cold and rainy a night, that what with the roquelaure, and what with the weather, 'twill be enough to give your honour your death, and bring on your honour's torment in your groin."

"I fear so," replied my uncle Toby; "but I am not at rest in my mind, Trim, since the account the landlord has given me. I wish I had not known so much of this affair," added my uncle Toby, “or that I had known more of it. How shall we manage it ?"

"Leave it, an't please your honour, to me," quoth the corporal; "I'll take my hat and stick, and go to the house, and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring your honour a full account in an hour."

"Thou shalt go, Trim," said my uncle Toby; "and here's a shilling for thee to drink with his servant."

"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.

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And in what regiment ?" said my uncle Toby. "I'll tell your honour," replied the corporal, "everything straightforwards as I learned it."

"Then, Trim, I'll fill another pipe," said my uncle Toby, "and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at thine 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't 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 death-watch all night long; and when he dies, the youth, his son, will certainly die with him; for he is broken-hearted 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

My uncle Toby filled his second pipe; and had it not been that he now and then wandered from the point, with considering whether it was not full as well to have the curtain of the tenaille a straight line as a crooked one, he might be said to have thought of nothing else but poor Le Fevre and his boy the whole time he smoked it.

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

27

"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't 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 mightst 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 smoking 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.

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"A soldier, an't 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 any one in the whole world.'"

"Twas well said of thee, Trim," said my uncle Toby.

“But when a soldier,' said I, 'an't 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 to-day; harassing others to-morrow; detached here; countermanded there; resting this night out upon his arms; beat up in his shirt the

straw in his tent to kneel on; he 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't 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 fun 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 have done their duty in this world and who have not, and we shall be advanced, Trim, accordingly."

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'I hope we shall," said Trim.

"It is in the Scripture," said my uncle Toby; "and I will show it thee to-morrow. In the meantime, we may depend upon it, Trim, for our comfort," said my uncle Toby, "that God Almighty is so good and just a governor of the world, that if we have but done our duty in it, it will never be inquired into whether we have done it in a red coat or a black one."

"I hope not," said the corporal.

"But go on, Trim," said my uncle Toby, "with thy story."

"When I went up," continued the corporal, " into the lieutenant's room, which I did not do till the expiration of the ten minutes, he was lying in his bed with his head raised upon his hand, his elbow upon the pillow, and a clean white cambric handkerchief beside it. The youth was just stooping down to take up the cushion, upon which I supposed he had been kneeling; the book was laid upon the bed; and, as he arose, in taking up the cushion with one hand, he reached out his other to take it away at the same time.

"Let it remain there, my dear,' said the lieutenant.

"He did not offer to speak to me till I had walked up close to his bedside.

"If you are Captain Shandy's servant,' said he, 'you must present my thanks to your master, with my little boy's thanks along with them, for his courtesy to me. If he was of Leven's,' said the lieutenant.

"I told him your honour was.

"Then,' said he, 'I served three campaigns with him in Flanders, and remember him; but 'tis most likely, as I had not the honour of any acquaintance with him, that he knows nothing of me. You will tell him, however, that the person his good nature has laid under obligation to him is one Le Fevre, a lieutenant in Angus's. But he knows me not,' said he, a second time, musing. 'Possibly he may my story,' added he. Pray tell the captain I was the ensign at Breda, whose wife

was most unfortunately killed with a musket shot as she lay in my arms in my tent.'

"I remember the story, an't please your honour,' said I, 'very well.'

"Do you so?' said he, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief; 'then well may I.’

"In saying this he drew a little ring out of his

"He will never march, an't please your honour, in this world," said the corporal.

"He will march," said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the bed, with one shoe off.

"An' please your honour," said the corporal, "he will never march but to his grave."

"He shall march," cried my uncle Toby, march

"Here, Billy,' said he.

"The boy flew across the room to the bedside, and, falling down upon his knee, took the ring in his hand, and kissed it too; then kissed his father, and sat down upon the bed and wept."

"I wish,” said my uncle Toby, with a deep sigh, "I wish, Trim, I was asleep."

"Your honour," replied the corporal, "is too much concerned. Shall I pour your honour out a glass of sack to your pipe?"

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out advancing an inch,-" he shall march to his regiment!"

"He cannot stand it," said the corporal. "He shall be supported," said my uncle Toby. "and

"He'll drop at last," said the corporal; what will become of his boy ?"

"He shall not drop," said my uncle Toby, firmly..

"Ah, well-a-day! do what we can for him," said Trim, maintaining his point, "the poor soul will -," cried my uncle

**

"Thou hast left this matter short," said my uncle Toby to the corporal, as he was putting him 'to bed; "and I will tell thee in what, Trim. In the first place, when thou madest an offer of my services to Le Fevre-as sickness and travelling are both expensive, and thou knowest he was but a poor lieutenant, with a son to subsist as well as himself out of his pay-that thou didst not make an offer to him of my purse; because, had he stood in need, thou knowest, Trim, he had been as welcome to it as myself."

"He shall not die, by

Toby.

The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in; and the recording angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.

My uncle Toby went to his bureau; put his purse into his breeches pocket; and having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a physician, he went to bed and fell asleep.

The sun looked bright the morning after to every eye in the village but Le Fevre's and his afflicted son's. The hand of Death pressed heavy upon his eyelids, and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle, when my uncle Toby, who had rose up an hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology, sat himself down upon the chair by the bedside; and, independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it, and asked him how he did-how he

"True!" quoth my uncle Toby; "thou didst very right, Trim, as a soldier, but certainly very wrong as a man. In the second place, for which indeed thou hast the same excuse," continued my uncle Toby, "when thou offeredst him whatever was in my house, thou shouldst have offered him my house too. A sick brother-officer should have the best quarters, Trim; and if we had him with us, we could tend and look to him. Thou art an excellent nurse thyself, Trim; and what with the care of him, and the old woman's, and his boy's, and mine together, we might recruit him at once, and set him on his legs. In a fortnight or three weeks," added my uncle Toby, smiling, "he might march."

where was his pain-and what he could do to help him. And without giving him time to answer any one of the inquiries, he went on and told him of the little plan which he had been concerting with the corporal the night before for him.

"You shall go home directly, Le Fevre," said my uncle Toby, "to my house, and we'll have an apothecary, and the corporal shall be your nurse, and I'll be your servant, Le Fevre."

There was a frankness in my uncle Toby-not the effect of familiarity, but the cause of it—which let you at once into his soul, and showed you the goodness of his nature; to this there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner superadded, which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate