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IT was some time in the summer of that year in which Dendermond was taken by the Allies,—which was about seven years before my father came into the country,-and about as many, after the time, that my uncle Toby and Trim had privately decamped from my father's house in town, in order to lay some of the finest fieges to some of the finest fortified cities in Europe—when my uncle Toby was one evening getting his supper, with Trim fitting behind him at a fmall fideboard.—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,—

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