My uncle _Toby_ and _Trim_ sought comfort in each other's faces--but found it not: my father clapped both his hands upon his cod-piece, which was a way he had when anything hugely tickled him: for though he hated a monk and the very smell of a monk worse than all the devils in hell----yet the shot hitting my uncle _Toby_ and _Trim_ so much harder than him, 'twas a relative triumph; and put him into the gayest humour in the world.

My uncle Toby and Trim looked at each other, dismayed; but my father clapped both his hands upon his cod-piece, which was a way he had when anything hugely tickled him: for though he hated a monk worse than all the devils in hell - yet this shot hitting my uncle Toby put him into the gayest humour in the world.
