Laurence Sterne — The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy Gentleman Chap. 3.61

       &nbspWe should begin, said my father, turning himself half round in bed, and shifting his pillow a little towards my mother's, as he opened the debate—We should begin to think, Mrs. Shandy, of putting this boy into breeches.—        &nbspWe should so,—said my mother.—We defer it, my dear, quoth my father, shamefully.—        &nbspI think we do, Mr. Shandy,—said my mother.        &nbsp—Not but the child looks extremely well, said my father, in his vests and tunicks.—        &nbsp—He does look very well in them,—replied my mother.—        &nbsp—And for that reason it would be almost a sin, added my father, to take him out of 'em.—        &nbsp—It would so,—said my mother:—But indeed he is growing a very tall lad,—rejoined my father.        &nbsp—He is very tall for his age, indeed,—said my mother.—        &nbsp—I can not (making two syllables of it) imagine, quoth my father, who the deuce he takes after.—        &nbspI cannot conceive, for my life, said my mother.—        &nbspHumph!—said my father.        &nbsp(The dialogue ceased for a moment.)        &nbsp—I am very short myself,—continued my father gravely.        &nbspYou are very short, Mr. Shandy,—said my mother.        &nbspHumph! quoth my father to himself, a second time: in muttering which, he plucked his pillow a little further from my mother's,—and turning about again, there was an end of the debate for three minutes and a half.        &nbsp—When he gets these breeches made, cried my father in a higher tone, he'll look like a beast in 'em.        &nbspHe will be very awkward in them at first, replied my mother.        &nbsp—And 'twill be lucky, if that's the worst on't, added my father.        &nbspIt will be very lucky, answered my mother.        &nbspI suppose, replied my father,—making some pause first,—he'll be exactly like other people's children.—        &nbspExactly, said my mother.—        &nbsp—Though I shall be sorry for that, added my father: and so the debate stopp'd again.—        &nbsp—They should be of leather, said my father, turning him about again.—        &nbspThey will last him, said my mother, the longest.        &nbspBut he can have no linings to 'em, replied my father.—        &nbspHe cannot, said my mother.        &nbsp'Twere better to have them of fustian, quoth my father.        &nbspNothing can be better, quoth my mother.—        &nbsp—Except dimity,—replied my father:—'Tis best of all,—replied my mother.        &nbsp—One must not give him his death, however,—interrupted my father.        &nbspBy no means, said my mother:—and so the dialogue stood still again.        &nbspI am resolved, however, quoth my father, breaking silence the fourth time, he shall have no pockets in them.—        &nbsp—There is no occasion for any, said my mother.—        &nbspI mean in his coat and waistcoat,—cried my father.        &nbsp—I mean so too,—replied my mother.        &nbsp—Though if he gets a gig or top—Poor souls! it is a crown and a sceptre to them,—they should have where to secure it.—        &nbspOrder it as you please, Mr. Shandy, replied my mother.—        &nbsp—But don't you think it right? added my father, pressing the point home to her.        &nbspPerfectly, said my mother, if it pleases you, Mr. Shandy.—        &nbsp—There's for you! cried my father, losing his temper—Pleases me!—You never will distinguish, Mrs. Shandy, nor shall I ever teach you to do it, betwixt a point of pleasure and a point of convenience.—This was on the Sunday night:—and further this chapter sayeth not.