MY father lay stretched across the
bed as still as if the hand of death
had pushed him down, for a full hour
and a half, before he began to play upon
the floor with the toe of that foot which
hung over the bed-side ; my uncle Toby's
heart was a pound lighter for it. -- In a
few moments, his left-hand, the knuckles
of which had all the time reclined upon
the handle of the chamber-pot, came
to its feeling -- he thrust it a little more
within
within the valance -- drew up his hand,
when he had done, into his bosom -- gave
a hem ! -- My good uncle Toby, with infi-
nite pleasure, answered it ; and full gladly
would have ingrafted a sentence of conso-
lation upon the opening it afforded ; but
having no talents, as I said, that way,
and fearing moreover that he might set
out with something which might make a
bad matter worse, he contented himself
with resting his chin placidly upon the
cross of his crutch.
Now whether the compression shortened
my uncle Toby's face into a more plea-
sureable oval, -- or that the philanthropy
of his heart, in seeing his brother begin-
ning to emerge out of the sea of his af-
flictions, had braced up his muscles, --
so that the compression upon his chin
only doubled the benignity which was
there
there before, is not hard to decide. -- My
father, in turning his eyes, was struck
with such a gleam of sun-shine in his
face, as melted down the sullenness of
his grief in a moment.
He broke silence as follows.
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