----There is no _gistus_ to it, noodle! --'tis my own name, replied the curate, dipping his hand, as he spoke, into the bason--_Tristram!_ said he, &c. &c. &c. &c., so _Tristram_ was I called, and _Tristram_ shall I be to the day of my death.
My father followed _Susannah_, with his night-gown across his arm, with nothing more than his breeches on, fastened through haste with but a single button, and that button through haste thrust only half into the button-hole.

'There is no gistus to it, noodle! - 'tis my own name,' replied the curate, dipping his hand into the basin. 'Tristram!' said he, &c. &c. &c.; so Tristram was I called, and Tristram shall I be to the day of my death.
My father followed Susannah, with nothing more than his breeches on, fastened through haste with but a single button, and that button only half in the button-hole.
