I cannot say but the Man has fought it out obstinately enough;—and, had his Cause been good, I should have really pitied him. For when he was driven out of the _Great Watch-Coat_,—you see, he did not run away;—no, —he retreated behind the _Breeches;_—and, when he could make nothing of it behind the _Breeches_,—he got behind the _Reading-Desk_.—To what other Hold Trim will next retreat, the Politicians of this Village are not agreed.—Some think his next Move will be towards the Rear of the Parson’s Boot;—but, as it is thought he cannot make a long Stand there,—others are of Opinion, That _Trim_ will once more in his Life get hold of the Parson’s Horse, and charge upon him, or perhaps behind him. But as the Horse is not easy to be caught, the more general Opinion is, That, when he is driven out of the _Reading-Desk_, he will make his last Retreat in such a Manner as, if possible, to gain the _Close-Stool_, and defend himself behind it to the very last Drop. If _Trim_ should make this Movement, by my Advice he should be left besides his Citadel, in full Possession of the Field of Battle;—where, ’tis certain, he will keep every Body a League off, and may pop by himself till he is weary: Besides, as _Trim_ seems bent upon _purging_ himself, and may have Abundance of foul Humours to work off, I think he cannot be better placed. But this is all Matter of Speculation.—Let me carry you back to Matter of Fact, and tell you what Kind of a Stand _Trim_ has actually made behind the said _Desk_. “Neighbours and Townsmen all, I will be sworn before my Lord Mayor, That _John_ and his nineteen Men in _Buckram_, have abused me worse than a Dog; for they told you that I play’d fast and go-loose with the _late_ Parson and him, in that old Dispute of theirs about the _Reading-Desk;_ and that I made Matters worse between them, and not better.” Of this Charge, _Trim_ declared he was as innocent as the Child that was unborn: That he would be Book-sworn he had no Hand in it. He produced a strong Witness;—and, moreover, insinuated, that _John_ himself, instead of being angry for what he had done in it, had actually thank’d him. Aye, _Trim_, says the Wight in the Plush Breeches, but that was, _Trim_, the Day before _John_ found thee out.—Besides, _Trim_, there is nothing in that:—For, the very Year that thou wast made Town’s Pinder, thou knowest well, that I both thank’d thee myself; and, moreover, gave thee a good warm Supper for turning _John Lund_’s Cows and Horses out of my Hard-Corn Close; which if thou had’st not done, (as thou told’st me) I should have lost my whole Crop: Whereas, _John Lund_ and _Thomas Patt_, who are both here to testify, and will take their Oaths on’t, That thou thyself wast the very Man who set the Gate open; and, after all,—it was not thee, _Trim_,—’twas the Blacksmith’s poor Lad who turn’d them out: So that a Man may be thank’d and rewarded too for a good Turn which he never did, nor ever did intend.