distresses. Nay, it was but the other day that I promised you these black plush breeches I have on. Rot your breeches, quoth Trim (for Trim's brain was half turned with his new finery), rot your breeches, says he—I would not take them up were they laid at my door-give them, and be d-d to you, to whom you like-I would have you to know I can have a better pair of the parson's any day in the week.-John told him plainly, as his word had once passed him, he had a spirit above taking advantage of his insolence in giving them away to another-but, to tell him his mind freely, he thought he had got so many favours of that kind, and was so likely to get many more for the same services, of the parson, that he had better give up the breeches, with good nature, to some one who would be more thankful for them.

Here John mentioned Mark Slender * (who, it seems, the day before had asked John for them), not knowing they were under promise to Trim'Come, Trim,' says he, let poor Mark have them -you know he has not a pair to his a―: besides, you see he is just of my size, and they will fit to a T; whereas if I give 'em to you, look ye, they are not worth much; and besides, you could not get your backside into them, if you had them; without tearing them all to pieces.'-Every tittle of this was most undoubtedly true, for Trim, you must know, by foul feeding, and playing the good fellow at the parson's, was grown somewhat gross about the lower parts, if not higher; so that, as all John said upon the occasion was fact, Trim with

* Dr. Braith

much ado, and after a hundred hums and hahs, at last, out of mere compassion to Mark, signs, seals, and delivers up ALL RIGHT, INTEREST, AND PRETENSIONS WHATSOEVER, IN AND TO THE SAID BREECHES, THEREBY BINDING HIS HEIRS, EXECUTORS, ADMINISTRATORS, AND ASSIGNS, NEVER MORE TO CALL THE SAID CLAIM IN QUESTION.-All this renunciation was set forth, in an ample manner, to be in pure pity to Mark's nakedness-but the secret was, Trim had an eye to, and firmly expected, in his own mind, the great green pulpit cloth, and old velvet cushion, which were that very year to be taken downwhich, by-the-by, could he have wheedled John a second time, as he had hoped, would have made up the loss of the breeches seven-fold.

Now, you must know, this pulpit-cloth and cushion were not in John's gift, but in the churchwardens, &c. However, as I said above, that John was a leading man in the parish, Trim knew he could help him to 'em if he would-but John had got a surfeit of him-so, when the pulpit-cloth, &c. were taken down, they were immediately given (John having a great say in it) to William Doe*, who understood very well what use to make of them.

As for the old breeches, poor Mark lived to wear them but a short time, and they got into the possession of Lorry Slim †, an unlucky wight, by whom they are still worn-in truth, as you will guess, they are very thin by this time.

But Lorry has a light heart, and what recom

Mr. Birdm-re.

+ Laurence Sterne,

mends them to him is this, that, as thin as they are, he knows that Trim, let him say what he will to the contrary, still envies the possessor of them, and with all his pride would be very glad to wear them after him.

Upon this footing have these affairs slept quietly for near ten years-and would have slept for ever, but for the unlucky kicking bout, which, as I said, has ripped this squabble up afresh; so that it was no longer ago than last week, that Trim met and insulted John, in the public town-way before a hundred people-tax'd him with the promise of the old cast pair of black breeches, notwithstanding Trim's solemn renunciation-twitted him with the pulpit-cloth and velvet cushion-as good as told him he was ignorant of the common duties of his clerkship; adding, very insolently, that he knew not so much as to give out a common psalm in tune.

John contented himself by giving a plain answer to every article that Trim had laid to his charge, and appealed to his neighbours, who remembered the whole affair-and, as he knew there was never any thing to be got by wrestling with a chimneysweeper, he was going to take his leave of Trim for ever.

But hold the mob by this time had got round them, and their high mightinesses insisted upon having Trim tried upon the spot.

Trim was acordingly tried, and after a 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 snapped up, like a greedy hound as you are?

In the first place, are you not sexton and dogwhipper, worth three pounds a year? Then you begged the churchwardens to let your wife have the washing and darning of the 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 pounder'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 by him with the 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 trow, will be looked 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! says a toothless old woman 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 creation, and surpassed by none.-

I am,

Sir, yours, &c. &c.

POSTSCRIPT.

I HAVE broke open my letter to inform you, that I missed 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 lain 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 townsfolks, 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-alleged that he had been used in the last fray worse than a dog, not by John the parish elerk, for he should 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