DR. _Slop_ was within an ace of being an exception to all this
argumentation: for happening to have his green baize bag upon his
knees, when he began to parody my uncle _Toby_—’twas as good as the
best mantle in the world to him: for which purpose, when he foresaw the
sentence would end in his new-invented forceps, he thrust his hand into
the bag in order to have them ready to clap in, when your reverences
took so much notice of the ***, which had he managed——my uncle _Toby_
had certainly been overthrown: the sentence and the argument in that
case jumping closely in one point, so like the two lines which form the
salient angle of a ravelin,——Dr. _Slop_ would never have given them
up;—and my uncle _Toby_ would as soon have thought of flying, as taking
them by force: but Dr. _Slop_ fumbled so vilely in pulling them out, it
took off the whole effect, and what was a ten times worse evil (for
they seldom come alone in this life) in pulling out his _forceps_, his
_forceps_ unfortunately drew out the _squirt_ along with it.
When a proposition can be taken in two senses—’tis a law in
disputation, That the respondent may reply to which of the two he
pleases, or finds most convenient for him.——This threw the advantage of
the argument quite on my uncle _Toby_’s side.—“Good God!” cried my
uncle _Toby_, “_are children brought into the world with a squirt?_”