Tho’ my father was a good natural philosopher, --yet he was something of
a moral philosopher too; for which reason, when his tobacco-pipe snapp’d
short in the middle, --he had nothing to do, as such, but to have taken
hold of the two pieces, and thrown them gently upon the back of the
fire. ----He did no such thing; ----he threw them with all the violence
in the world; --and, to give the action still more emphasis, --he
started upon both his legs to do it.
This looked something like heat; --and the manner of his reply to what
my uncle _Toby_ was saying, proved it was so.
--“Not choose,” quoth my father, (repeating my uncle _Toby’s_ words) “to
let a man come so near her!” ----By Heaven, brother _Toby!_ you would
try the patience of _Job_; --and I think I have the plagues of one
already without it. ----Why? ----Where? ----Wherein? ----Wherefore?
----Upon what account? replied my uncle _Toby_, in the utmost
astonishment. --To think, said my father, of a man living to your age,
brother, and knowing so little about women! ----I know nothing at all
about them, --replied my uncle _Toby_: And I think, continued he, that
the shock I received the year after the demolition of _Dunkirk_, in my
affair with widow _Wadman_; --which shock you know I should not have
received, but from my total ignorance of the sex, --has given me just
cause to say, That I neither know nor do pretend to know anything about
’em or their concerns either. --Methinks, brother, replied my father,
you might, at least, know so much as the right end of a woman from the
wrong.
It is said in _Aristotle’s_ _Master Piece_, “That when a man doth think
of anything which is past, ----he looketh down upon the ground; ----but
that when he thinketh of something that is to come, he looketh up
towards the heavens.”
My uncle _Toby_, I suppose, thought of neither, for he look’d
horizontally. --Right end! quoth my uncle _Toby_, muttering the two
words low to himself, and fixing his two eyes insensibly as he muttered
them, upon a small crevice, formed by a bad joint in the
chimney-piece ----Right end of a woman! ----I declare, quoth my uncle,
I know no more which it is than the man in the moon; ----and if I was to
think, continued my uncle _Toby_ (keeping his eye still fixed upon the
bad joint) this month together, I am sure I should not be able to find
it out.
Then, brother _Toby_, replied my father, I will tell you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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