As I went on thus, methought my chaise, the wreck of which look'd stately enough at the first, insensibly grew less and less in its size; the freshness of the painting was no more--the gilding lost its lustre--and the whole affair appeared so poor in my eyes--so sorry! --so contemptible! and, in a word, so much worse than the abbess of _Andoillets'_ itself--that I was just opening my mouth to give it to the devil--when a pert vamping chaise-undertaker, stepping nimbly across the street, demanded if Monsieur would have his chaise refitted ----No, no, said I, shaking my head sideways --Would Monsieur chuse to sell it? rejoined the undertaker. --With all my soul, said I--the iron work is worth forty livres--and the glasses worth forty more--and the leather you may take to live on.
What a mine of wealth, quoth I, as he counted me the money, has this post-chaise brought me in? And this is my usual method of book-keeping, at least with the disasters of life--making a penny of every one of 'em as they happen to me----
----Do, my dear _Jenny_, tell the world for me, how I behaved under one, the most oppressive of its kind, which could befal me as a man, proud as he ought to be of his manhood----
'Tis enough, saidst thou, coming close up to me, as I stood with my garters in my hand, reflecting upon what had _not_ pass'd----'Tis enough, _Tristram_, and I am satisfied, saidst thou, whispering these words in my ear, **** ** **** *** ******; --**** ** **----any other man would have sunk down to the center----
----Everything is good for something, quoth I.

As I went on thus, methought my chaise grew gradually smaller; the freshness of the painting was no more - the gilding lost its lustre - and the whole thing appeared so sorry! so contemptible! - that I was just about to curse it to the devil - when a pert chaise-undertaker, stepping nimbly across the street, demanded if Monsieur would have his chaise refitted?
'No, no,' said I.
'Would Monsieur sell it?'
'With all my soul,' said I. 'The iron work is worth forty livres - and the windows forty more.'
What wealth this post-chaise brought me! This is my usual method of book-keeping - making a penny of every disaster that happens to me-
Do, my dear Jenny, tell the world how I behaved under the most oppressive disaster which could befall me as a man proud of his manhood-
''Tis enough,' saidst thou to me, as I stood with my garters in my hand, reflecting upon what had not happened. ''Tis enough, Tristram, and I am satisfied,' thou saidst, whispering in my ear: '**** ** **** *** ******; **** ** **.' - Any other man would have sunk down to the centre.
'Everything is good for something,' quoth I.
