SIR,

In my last, for want of something better to write about, I told you

what a World of Fending and Proving we have had of late, in this little

Village of ours, about an _old-cast-Pair-of-black-Plush-Breeches_,

which _John_, our Parish-Clerk, about ten Years ago, it seems, had made

a Promise of to one _Trim_, who is our Sexton and Dog-Whipper.—To this

you write me Word, that you have had more than either one or two

Occasions to know a good deal of the shifty Behaviour of this said

Master _Trim_,—and that you are astonished, nor can you for your Soul

conceive, how so worthless a Fellow, and so worthless a Thing into the

Bargain, could become the Occasion of such a Racket as I have

represented.

Now, though you do not say expressly, you could wish to hear any more

about it, yet I see plain enough that I have raised your Curiosity; and

therefore, from the same Motive, that I slightly mentioned it at all in

my last Letter, I will, in this, give you a full and very

circumstantial Account of the whole Affair.

But, before I begin, I must first set you right in one very material

Point, in which I have misled you, as to the true Cause of all this

Uproar amongst us;—which does not take its Rise, as I then told you,

from the Affair of the _Breeches;_—but, on the contrary, the whole

Affair of the _Breeches_ has taken its Rise from it:—To understand

which, you must know, that the first Beginning of the Squabble was not

between _John_ the Parish-Clerk and _Trim_ the Sexton, but betwixt the

Parson of the Parish and the said Master Trim, about an old

_Watch-Coat_, which had many Years hung up in the Church, which _Trim_

had set his Heart upon; and nothing would serve _Trim_ but he must take

it home, in order to have it converted into a _warm Under-Petticoat_

for his Wife, and a _Jerkin_ for himself, against Winter; which, in a

plaintive Tone, he most humbly begg’d his Reverence would consent to.

I need not tell you, Sir, who have so often felt it, that a Principle

of strong Compassion transports a generous Mind sometimes beyond what

is strictly right,—the Parson was within an Ace of being an honourable

Example of this very Crime;—for no sooner did the distinct

Words—_Petticoat—poor Wife—warm—Winter_ strike upon his Ear, but his

Heart warmed,—and, before _Trim_ had well got to the End of his

Petition, (being a Gentleman of a frank and open Temper) he told him he

was welcome to it, with all his Heart and Soul. But, _Trim_, says he,

as you see I am but just got down to my Living, and am an utter

Stranger to all Parish-Matters, know nothing about this old Watch-Coat

you beg of me, having never seen it in my Life, and therefore cannot be

a Judge whether ’tis fit for such a Purpose; or, if it is, in Truth,

know not whether ’tis mine to bestow upon you or not;—you must have a

Week or ten Days Patience, till I can make some Inquiries about

it;—and, if I find it is in my Power, I tell you again, Man, your Wife

is heartily welcome to an Under-Petticoat out of it, and you to a

Jerkin, was the Thing as good again as you represent it.

It is necessary to inform you, Sir, in this Place, That the Parson was

earnestly bent to serve _Trim_ in this Affair, not only from the Motive

of Generosity, which I have justly ascribed to him, but likewise from

another Motive; and that was by way of making some Sort of Recompence

for a Multitude of small Services which _Trim_ had occasionally done,

and indeed was continually doing, (as he was much about the House) when

his own Man was out of the Way. For all these Reasons together, I say,

the Parson of the Parish intended to serve _Trim_ in this Matter to the

utmost of his Power: All that was wanting was previously to inquire, if

any one had a _Claim_ to it;—or whether, as it had, Time immemorial,

hung up in the Church, the taking it down might not raise a Clamour in

the Parish. These Inquiries were the very Thing that _Trim_ dreaded in

his Heart—He knew very well that if the Parson should but say one Word

to the Church-Wardens about it, there would be an End of the whole

Affair. For this, and some other Reasons not necessary to be told you,

at present, _Trim_ was for allowing no Time in this Matter;—but, on the

contrary, doubled his Diligence and Importunity at the

Vicarage-House;—plagued the whole Family to Death;—pressed his Suit

Morning, Noon, and Night; and, to shorten my Story, teazed the poor

Gentleman, who was but in an ill State of Health, almost out of his

Life about it.

You will not wonder, when I tell you, that all this Hurry and

Precipitation, on the Side of Master _Trim_, produced its natural

Effect on the Side of the Parson, and that was, a Suspicion that all

was not right at the Bottom.

He was one Evening sitting alone in his Study, weighing and turning

this Doubt every Way in his Mind; and, after an Hour and a half’s

serious Deliberation upon the Affair, and running over _Trim_’s

Behaviour throughout,—he was just saying to himself, _It must be

so;_—when a sudden Rap at the Door put an End to his Soliloquy,—and, in

a few Minutes, to his Doubts too; for a Labourer in the Town, who

deem’d himself past his fifty-second Year, had been returned by the

Constable in the Militia-List,—and he had come, with a Groat in his

Hand, to search the Parish Register for his Age.—The Parson bid the

poor Fellow put the Groat into his Pocket, and go into the

Kitchen:—Then shutting the Study Door, and taking down the Parish

Register,—_Who knows_, says he, _but I may find something here about

this self-same Watch-Coat?_—He had scarce unclasped the Book, in saying

this, when he popp’d upon the very Thing he wanted, fairly wrote on the

first Page, pasted to the Inside of one of the Covers, whereon was a

Memorandum about the very Thing in Question, in these express Words: