When Trim, as his custom was, after he had put my uncle Toby to bed, going down one moon-shiny night to see that every thing was right at his fortifications—in the lane separated from the bowling-green with flowering shrubs and holly—he espied his Bridget.

She could hear them chattering above. Pruck, pruck, pruck.

the Continence of the Cause should be divided

She had her shertes & gyrdyls of heere.