To this, the Parson’s Reply was short, but strong, “That nothing was in his Power to do, but what he could do honestly:—That in giving the Coat to him and his Wife, he should do a manifest Wrong to the next Sexton; the great Watch-Coat being the most comfortable Part of the Place:—That he should, moreover, injure the Right of his own Successor, who would be just so much a worse Patron, as the Worth of the Coat amounted to;—and, in a Word, he declared, that his whole intent in promising that Coat, was Charity to Trim; but Wrong to no Man; that was a Reserve, he said, made in all Cases of this Kind:—and he declared solemnly, in Verbo Sacerdotis, That this was his Meaning, and was so understood by Trim himself.”
With the Weight of this Truth, and the great good Sense and strong Reason which accompanied all the Parson said upon the Subject,—poor Trim was driven to his last Shift,—and begg’d he might be suffered to plead his Right and Title to the Watch-Coat, if not by Promise, at least by Services.—It was well known how much he was entitled to it upon these Scores: That he had black’d the Parson’s Shoes without Count, and greased his Boots above fifty Times:—That he had run for Eggs into the Town upon all Occasions;—whetted the Knives at all Hours;—catched his Horse and rubbed him down:—That for his Wife she had been ready upon all Occasions to charr for them;—and neither he nor she, to the best of his Remembrance, ever took a Farthing, or any thing beyond a Mug of Ale.—To this Account of his Services he begg’d Leave to add those of his Wishes, which, he said, had been equally great.—He affirmed, and was ready, he said, to make it appear, by Numbers of Witnesses, “He had drank his Reverence’s Health a thousand Times, (by the bye, he did not add out of the Parson’s own Ale): That he not only drank his Health, but wish’d it; and never came to the House, but ask’d his Man kindly how he did; that in particular, about half a Year ago, when his Reverence cut his Finger in paring an Apple, he went half a Mile to ask a cunning Woman, what was good to stanch Blood, and actually returned with a Cobweb in his Breeches Pocket:—Nay, says Trim, it was not a Fortnight ago, when your Reverence took that violent Purge, that I went to the far End of the whole Town to borrow you a Close-stool,—and came back, as my Neighbours, who flouted me, will all bear witness, with the Pan upon my Head, and never thought it too much.”
Trim concluded his pathetick Remonstrance with saying, “He hoped his Reverence’s Heart would not suffer him to requite so many faithful Services by so unkind a Return:—That if it was so, as he was the first, so he hoped he should be the last, Example of a Man of his Condition so treated.”—This Plan of Trim’s Defence, which Trim had put himself upon,—could admit of no other Reply but a general Smile.
Upon the whole, let me inform you, That all that could be said, pro and con, on both Sides, being fairly heard, it was plain, That Trim, in every Part of this Affair, had behaved very ill;—and one Thing, which was never expected to be known of him, happening in the Course of this Debate to come out against him; namely, That he had gone and told the Parson, before he had ever set Foot in his Parish, That John his Parish-Clerk,—his Church-Wardens, and some of the Heads of the Parish, were a Parcel of Scoundrels.—Upon the Upshot, Trim was kick’d out of Doors; and told, at his Peril, never to come there again.
At first Trim huff’d and bounced most terribly;—swore he would get a Warrant;—then nothing would serve him but he would call a Bye-Law, and tell the whole Parish how the Parson had misused him;—but cooling of that, as fearing the Parson might possibly bind him over to his good Behaviour, and, for aught he knew, might send him to the House of Correction,—he let the Parson alone; and, to revenge himself, falls foul upon his Clerk, who had no more to do in the Quarrel than you or I;—rips up the Promise of the old-cast-Pair-of-black-Plush-Breeches, and raises an Uproar in the Town about it, notwithstanding it had slept ten Years.—But all this, you must know, is look’d upon in no other Light, but as an artful Stroke of Generalship in Trim, to raise a Dust, and cover himself under the disgraceful Chastisement he has undergone.
If your Curiosity is not yet satisfied,—I will now proceed to relate the Battle of the Breeches, in the same exact Manner I have done that of the Watch-Coat.
Be it known then, that, about ten Years ago, when John was appointed Parish-Clerk of this Church, this said Master Trim took no small Pains to get into John’s good Graces in order, as it afterwards appeared, to coax a Promise out of him of a Pair of Breeches, which John had then by him, of black Plush, not much the worse for wearing;—Trim only begging for God’s Sake to have them bestowed upon him when John should think fit to cast them.
Trim was one of those kind of Men who loved a Bit of Finery in his Heart, and would rather have a tatter’d Rag of a Better Body’s, than the best plain whole Thing his Wife could spin him.
John, who was naturally unsuspicious, made no more Difficulty of promising the Breeches, than the Parson had done in promising the Great Coat; and, indeed, with something less Reserve,—because the Breeches were John’s own, and he could give them, without Wrong, to whom he thought fit.
It happened, I was going to say unluckily, but, I should rather say, most luckily, for Trim, for he was the only Gainer by it;—that a Quarrel, about some six or eight Weeks after this, broke out between the late Parson of the Parish and John the Clerk. Somebody (and it was thought to be Nobody but Trim) had put it into the Parson’s Head, “That John’s Desk in the Church was, at the least, four Inches higher than it should be:—That the Thing gave Offence, and was indecorous, inasmuch as it approach’d too near upon a Level with the Parson’s Desk itself.” This Hardship the Parson complained of loudly,—and told John one Day after Prayers, “He could bear it no longer:—And would have it alter’d and brought down as it should be.” John made no other Reply, but, “That the Desk was not of his raising:—That ’twas not one Hair Breadth higher than he found it;—and that as he found it, so would he leave it:—In short, he would neither make an Encroachment, nor would he suffer one.”