A Political Romance | Page 6

Laurence Sterne
full Hearing, was convicted a second Time, and handled more roughly by one or more of them, than even at the Parson's.
Trim, says one, are you not ashamed of yourself, to make all this Rout and Disturbance in the Town, and set Neighbours together by the Ears, about an old-worn-out-Pair-of-cast-Breeches, not worth Half a Crown?--Is there a cast-Coat, or a Place in the whole Town, that will bring you in a Shilling, but what you have snapp'd up, like a greedy Hound as you are?
In the first Place, are you not Sexton and Dog-Whipper, worth Three Pounds a Year?--Then you begg'd the Church-Wardens to let your Wife have the Washing and Darning of the Surplice and Church-Linen, which brings you in Thirteen Shillings and Four Pence.--Then you have Six Shillings and Eight Pence for oiling and winding up the Clock, both paid you at Easter.--The Pinder's Place, which is worth Forty Shillings a Year,--you have got that too.--You are the Bailiff, which the late Parson got you, which brings you in Forty Shillings more.--Besides all this, you have Six Pounds a Year, paid you Quarterly for being Mole-Catcher to the Parish.--Aye, says the luckless Wight above-mentioned, (who was standing close to him with his Plush Breeches on) "You are not only Mole-Catcher, Trim, but you catch STRAY CONIES too in the Dark; and you pretend a Licence for it, which, I trove, will be look'd into at the next Quarter Sessions." I maintain it, I have a Licence, says Trim, blushing as red as Scarlet:--I have a Licence,--and as I farm a Warren in the next Parish, I will catch Conies every Hour of the Night.--You catch Conies! cries a toothless old Woman, who was just passing by.--
This set the Mob a laughing, and sent every Man home in perfect good Humour, except Trim, who waddled very slowly off with that Kind of inflexible Gravity only to be equalled by one Animal in the whole Creation,--and surpassed by none, I am,
SIR, Yours, &c. &c.
FINIS.
POSTSCRIPT.
I have broke open my Letter to inform you, that I miss'd the Opportunity of sending it by the Messenger, who I expected would have called upon me in his Return through this Village to York, so it has laid a Week or ten Days by me.
--I am not sorry for the Disappointment, because something has since happened, in Continuation of this Affair, which I am thereby enabled to transmit to you, all under one Trouble.
When I finished the above Account, I thought (as did every Soul in the Parish) Trim had met with so thorough a Rebuff from John the Parish- Clerk and the Town's Folks, who all took against him, that Trim would be glad to be quiet, and let the Matter rest.
But, it seems, it is not half an Hour ago since Trim sallied forth again; and, having borrowed a Sow-Gelder's Horn, with hard Blowing he got the whole Town round him, and endeavoured to raise a Disturbance, and fight the whole Battle over again:--That he had been used in the last Fray worse than a Dog;--not by John the Parish-Clerk,--for I shou'd not, quoth Trim, have valued him a Rush single Hands:--But all the Town sided with him, and twelve Men in Buckram set upon me all at once, and kept me in Play at Sword's Point for three Hours together.--Besides, quoth Trim, there were two misbegotten Knaves in Kendal Green, who lay all the while in Ambush in John's own House, and they all sixteen came upon my Back, and let drive at me together.--A Plague, says Trim, of all Cowards!--Trim repeated this Story above a Dozen Times;--which made some of the Neighbours pity him, thinking the poor Fellow crack-brain'd, and that he actually believed what he said. After this Trim dropp'd the Affair of the Breeches, and begun a fresh Dispute about the Reading- Desk, which I told you had occasioned some small Dispute between the late Parson and John, some Years ago.
This Reading-Desk, as you will observe, was but an Episode wove into the main Story by the Bye;--for the main Affair was the Battle of the Breeches and Great Watch-Coat.--However, Trim being at last driven out of these two Citadels,--he has seized hold, in his Retreat, of this Reading-Desk, with a View, as it seems, to take Shelter behind it.
I cannot say but the Man has fought it out obstinately enough;--and, had his Cause been good, I should have really pitied him. For when he was driven out of the Great Watch-Coat,--you see, he did not run away;--no, --he retreated behind the Breeches;--and, when he could make nothing of it behind the Breeches,--he got behind the Reading-Desk.--To what other Hold Trim will next retreat, the Politicians of this Village are not agreed.--Some think his next Move will be towards
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