Here's for you! cried my father, making a pause, and looking in my uncle _Toby's_ face, as if the thing had not been a matter of fact. --Your worship ordered me to sell him last _April_, said _Obadiah_. --Then go on foot for your pains, cried my father ----I had much rather walk than ride, said _Obadiah_, shutting the door.
What plagues, cried my father, going on with his calculation. ----But the waters are out, said _Obadiah_, --opening the door again.
Till that moment, my father, who had a map of _Sanson's_, and a book of the post-roads before him, had kept his hand upon the head of his compasses, with one foot of them fixed upon _Nevers_, the last stage he had paid for--purposing to go on from that point with his journey and calculation, as soon as _Obadiah_ quitted the room: but this second attack of _Obadiah's_, in opening the door and laying the whole country under water, was too much. ----He let go his compasses--or rather with a mixed motion between accident and anger, he threw them upon the table; and then there was nothing for him to do, but to return back to _Calais_ (like many others) as wise as he had set out.

'Sold!' cried my father, as if the thing had not been a matter of fact.
'Your worship ordered me to sell him last April,' said Obadiah.
'Then go on foot,' cried my father.
'I had much rather walk than ride,' said Obadiah, shutting the door.
'What plagues,' cried my father, going on with his calculation.
'But the roads are flooded,' said Obadiah, opening the door again.
Till that moment, my father, who had a map and a book of the post-roads before him, had kept one foot of his compasses fixed upon Nevers, the next stage in his journey and his calculation: but this second attack of Obadiah's, in opening the door and laying the whole country under water, was too much.
He let go his compasses - or rather, in a mixture of accident and anger, he threw them upon the table; and then he had to return all the way back to Calais.
