Nature had been prodigal in her gifts to my father beyond measure, and had sown the seeds of verbal criticism as deep within him, as she had done the seeds of all other knowledge------so that he had got out his penknife, and was trying experiments upon the sentence, to see if he could not scratch some better sense into it. ----I've got within a single letter, brother _Toby_, cried my father, of _Erasmus_ his mystic meaning. --You are near enough, brother, replied my uncle, in all conscience. ------Pshaw! cried my father, scratching on ----I might as well be seven miles off. --I've done it--said my father, snapping his fingers --See, my dear brother _Toby_, how I have mended the sense. ----But you have marr'd a word, replied my uncle _Toby_. ----My father put on his spectacles----bit his lip------and tore out the leaf in a passion.
My father had got out his penknife, and was trying experiments upon the sentence, to see if he could not scratch some better sense into it.
'I've got within a single letter, brother Toby,' cried he, scratching on, 'of Erasmus's mystic meaning. I've done it,' he said, snapping his fingers. 'See, my dear brother, how I have mended the sense.'
'But you have marred a word,' replied my uncle Toby. My father bit his lip - and tore the page out in a passion.