Though my father was hugely tickled with the subtleties of these learned discourses------'twas still but like the anointing of a broken bone ------The moment he got home, the weight of his afflictions returned upon him but so much the heavier, as is ever the case when the staff we lean on slips from under us. --He became pensive--walked frequently forth to the fish-pond--let down one loop of his hat----sigh'd often----forbore to snap--and, as the hasty sparks of temper, which occasion snapping, so much assist perspiration and digestion, as _Hippocrates_ tells us--he had certainly fallen ill with the extinction of them, had not his thoughts been critically drawn off, and his health rescued by a fresh train of disquietudes left him, with a legacy of a thousand pounds, by my aunt _Dinah_.

Though my father was hugely tickled with the subtleties of this learned discourse - 'twas still like putting ointment on a broken bone.
When he got home, his afflictions weighed upon him so much the heavier. He became pensive - walked frequently to the fish-pond - sighed often - and would have certainly fallen ill, had not his thoughts been distracted by a fresh train of worries left him, with a legacy of a thousand pounds, by my aunt Dinah.
