So stood my father, holding fast his forefinger betwixt his finger and his thumb, and reasoning with my uncle _Toby_ as he sat in his old fringed chair, valanced around with party-coloured worsted bobs ----O _Garrick!_--what a rich scene of this would thy exquisite powers make! 
So stood my father, holding his forefinger betwixt his finger and his thumb, and reasoning with my uncle Toby in his old fringed chair with woollen bobs - O Garrick! what a rich scene wouldst thou make of this! 