t-d'ye-call-'ems all about it.

It is for that reason, quoth my uncle Toby, that the groin is
infinitely more sensible--there being not only as many tendons
and what-d'ye-call-'ems (for I know their names as little as thou
dost)--about it--but moreover ...--

Mrs. Wadman, who had been all the time in her arbour--instantly stopp'd
her breath--unpinn'd her mob at the chin, and stood upon one leg--

The dispute was maintained with amicable and equal force betwixt my
uncle Toby and Trim for some time; till Trim at length recollecting that
he had often cried at his master's sufferings, but never shed a tear
at his own--was for giving up the point, which my uncle Toby would not
allow--'Tis a proof of nothing, Trim, said he, but the generosity of thy
temper--

So that whether the pain of a wound in the groin (caeteris paribus) is
greater than the pain of a wound in the knee--or

Whether the pain of a wound in the knee is not greater than the pain of
a wound in the groin--are points which to this day remain unsettled.

Chapter 4.XLIV.

The anguish of my knee, continued the corporal, was excessive in itself;
and the uneasiness of the cart, with the roughness of the roads, which
were terribly cut up--making bad still worse--every step was death to
me: so that with the loss of blood, and the want of care-taking of
me, and a fever I felt coming on besides--(Poor soul! said my uncle
Toby)--all together, an' please your honour, was more than I could
sustain.

I was telling my sufferings to a young woman at a peasant's house, where
our cart, which was the last of the line, had halted; they had help'd
me in, and the young woman had taken a cordial out of her pocket and
dropp'd it upon some sugar, and seeing it had cheer'd me, she had given
it me a second and a third time--So I was telling her, an' please your
honour, the anguish I was in, and was saying it was so intolerable
to me, that I had much rather lie down upon the bed, turning my face
towards one which was in the corner of the room--and die, than go
on--when, upon her attempting to lead me to it, I fainted away in her
arms. She was a good soul! as your honour, said the corporal, wiping his
eyes, will hear.

I thought love had been a joyous thing, quoth my uncle Toby.

'Tis the most serious thing, an' please your honour (sometimes), that is
in the world.

By the persuasion of the young woman, continued the corporal, the cart
with the wounded men set off without