'Tis a pity, cried my father one winter's night, after a three hours' painful translation of _Slawkenbergius_----'tis a pity, cried my father, putting my mother's thread-paper into the book for a mark, as he spoke----that truth, brother _Toby_, should shut herself up in such impregnable fastnesses, and be so obstinate as not to surrender herself sometimes up upon the closest siege.----

''Tis a pity,' cried my father one winter's night, after three hours' painful translation of Slawkenbergius - ''tis a pity that truth, brother Toby, should shut herself up in such impregnable fortresses, and not surrender under the closest siege.'
