be driven into Paris at nine o'clock at
night, by a postillion in a tawny yellow jerkin, turned up with a
red calamanco! Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack! I wish thy
whip----But it is the spirit of the nation; so crack, crack on."

Here is another instance;--

"Ptr--r--r--ing--twing--twang--prut--trut;--'tis a cursed bad
fiddle. Do you know whether my fiddle's in tune or no?--trut--prut.
They should be fifths. 'Tis wickedly strung--tr--a, e, i, o, u,
twang. The bridge is a mile too high, and the sound post absolutely
down,--else,--trut--prut.

"Hark! 'tis not so bad in tone. Diddle, diddle, diddle, diddle,
diddle, diddle, dum. There is nothing in playing before good
judges; but there's a man there--no, not him with the bundle under
his arm--the grave man in black,--'sdeath! not the man with the
sword on. Sir, I had rather play a capriccio to Calliope herself
than draw my bow across my fiddle before that very man; and yet
I'll stake my Cremona to a Jew's trump, which is the greatest odds
that ever were laid, that I will this moment stop three hundred and
fifty leagues out of time upon my fiddle without punishing one
single nerve that belongs to him. Twiddle diddle,--tweddle
diddle,--twiddle diddle,--twoddle diddle,--twiddle
diddle;--prut-trut--krish--krash--krush,--I've outdone you, Sir,
but you see he's no worse; and was Apollo to take his fiddle after
me, he can make him no better. Diddle diddle; diddle diddle, diddle
diddle,--hum--dum--drum.

"Your worships and your reverences love music, and God has made you
all with good ears, and some of you play delightfully yourselves;
trut-prut--prut-trut."

In the following passages we may also observe that peculiar neat and
dramatic form of expression for which Sterne was remarkable.

"'Are we not,' continued Corporal Trim, looking still at
Susanah--'Are we not like a flower of the field?' A tear of pride
stole in betwixt every two tears of humiliation--else no tongue
could have described Susanah's affliction--'Is not all flesh
grass?--'Tis clay--'tis dirt.' They all looked directly at the
scullion;--the scullion had been just scouring a fish kettle--It
was not fair.

"'What is the finest face man ever looked at?' 'I could hear Trim
talk so for ever,' cried Susanah, 'What is it?' Susanah laid her