said _Trim_, pushing in between two chairs. ----Or forces the lines? cried my uncle, rising up, and pushing his crutch like a pike. ----Or facing a platoon? cried _Trim_, presenting his stick like a fire-lock. ----Or when he marches up the glacis? cried my uncle _Toby_, looking warm and setting his foot upon his stool.------
said Trim, pushing between two chairs.
'Or forces the lines?' said my uncle, rising up.
'Or faces a platoon?' cried Trim, raising his stick.
'Or when he marches up the glacis?' cried my uncle Toby warmly, as he set his foot upon the stool.